TDMODW: Family Affair
by dontblink992
Summary: Sequel to TDMODW: The Setup... She silently prayed that whoever was in charge of karmatic bitchslaps had sneezed or something and hadn’t caught her little slip up. No such luck... 'You…You’re supposed to be dead.'
1. The opposite of Patricide

**---------------------------**

**Disclaimer:**

Alright listen up 'cause I'm only saying this once.

I don't own anything or anyone from The Outsiders. I'm just borrowing for my own amusement. And if you read this, hopefully yours.

Well now that that's done…

Enjoy!

**---------------------------**

**1.**

She sighed.

This wasn't exactly how she wanted to be spending her Sunday afternoon: dressed in black and soaked from head to toe, consequently freezing her ass off.

But she didn't complain.

She was only this way because she'd wandered off into the rain when she'd attempted to escape the mourners when she'd gotten tired of having to fake emotion any time one of Aida's old associates gave her their condolences.

She refused to let herself complain.

No, she'd told herself she'd just have to suck it up and to put up with it all in relative silence and secret annoyance. All because her grandmother was supposed to be dead. 'Supposed to be' being the key phrase here.

In reality Aida wasn't dead, yet. She was in Mexico, sipping margaritas, smoking her Salem's, and getting tan on some remote beach while some cabana boy fanned her with a giant leaf. Okay, so she'd made up the part about the cabana boy, but she knew the rest was true. She knew her grandmother well enough to know that much.

In reality, she'd given up constantly pretending to mourn someone who wasn't really dead about the time they'd lowered the empty box into the ground, and by the time they'd all met up for drinks and hours devoirs she really could have cared less if anyone thought she was a heartless bitch.

She just wanted to get away from them.

Those people who kept asking her how she was taking 'the tragic losses'. Exceptionally well, she thought.

Or telling her not to blame herself. No worries there, really.

Or slipping her business cards for psychiatrists and flyers for support groups. She didn't think they had support groups for this kind of thing; but then again, you just never know now-a-days.

She laughed and almost lost her balance. As she steadied herself she sighed again. She reached down, pulled off her shoes and silently wondered why she'd ever thought wearing heels would be a good idea. With her gracefulness, or lack-there-of, it was just asking for trouble. She left her shoes lying in the wet grass as she brought her attention back to the world around her. She turned expecting a stupid comment from someone next to her when she remembered she was alone.

She'd been alone for awhile now. But she couldn't complain. Because it _was _her own fault. She'd forced Dallas and Two-Bit to go back to Tulsa a few days after she'd seen Aida's house, or rather what had been left of it. She didn't give them an explanation or an excuse. She'd just told them they needed to go back and they'd left. Truthfully she'd expected more of a fight from them, or from Dallas at least. But no, they'd dropped her off and they'd driven home the very next day. They left just a few days before the questions had started. The news had spread far quickly, like some kind of disease. By the time Sam had woken up half the freakin' state knew what had happened. Or at least what they thought had happened.

The lie the reporters had been told was too blah. An accidental fire and a botched attempted robbery. That didn't sell very many papers. So most of them had just made up their own ideas about what had happened; though none of them were as messed up as the truth. The truth, Sam had quickly realized, sounded like something out of a bad soap opera. An arranged marriage. Secret identities. Attempted murder. Two people faking their deaths and fleeing the country. Betrayal. Lies. Scandal. Death.

She tucked a stray piece of drenched hair behind her ear and continued on her impromptu walk through the burial ground. She stumbled through the mud and the wet grass reading the grave markers. She was looking for one in particular. One that she hadn't seen in a long time. Not that she'd admit she was looking for it. Not that she really knew she was.

She headed toward a familiar steep hill suddenly thankful that she'd ditched her shoes a while back. She trudged up the hill trying not to slip. Something that was becoming more difficult as the rain came down harder.

She stopped for a second, debating turning back.

As much as she loved it, rain had never meant good things for her. Rain usually meant something big was about to happen. And when the rain started coming down harder… well things usually got worse.

She laughed at herself. _How could things get any worse._

She regretted the words almost as soon as they'd appeared in her mind; so much that she actually covered her mouth like she'd spoken them out loud.

She silently prayed that _whoever _was in charge of karmatic bitch-slaps had sneezed or something and hadn't caught her little slip up. She attempted to turn around but caught something moving out of the corner of her eye and froze.

_Too late. _

She turned to see what it was she'd just caught sight. Before she knew what she was doing she was running down the other side of the hill getting closer to the unclear outline of whoever it was standing in the rain before her.

She stopped suddenly a few feet away from the grave, not quite believing what she was seeing. "You…You're supposed to be dead."

He turned to face her and after he got over the initial shock what she'd just said he laughed at the dumbstruck look on her face. "Am I? I don't think I got that memo."

She shook her head trying to erase him from her vision, because this _had _to be some sick hallucination she was seeing. Because if it wasn't… And he was alive… That meant he always had been… That meant she'd been lied to… Again… And that meant he was…

She looked at him again and closed her eyes.

"I'm giving you to the count of three to disappear, do you understand?!"

She took his silence as a good sign and continued. "One…"

He watched her with an amused look on his face.

"Two…"

I mean, what did she think counting to three was going to accomplish?

"Two and a half…"

And if she wasn't even going to do it properly…

"Three!"

She opened her eyes and saw him silently laughing at her. She groaned inwardly. He didn't go away. Which meant not only was he really there, but he was laughing at her stupid behavior.

She sighed.

He was really there.

Just like before.

Smiling and laughing at her. Watching her act like a fool to get his attention, and enjoying every minute of it.

Sure he was older, more laugh lines and his brown hair was starting to gray in places. But he was still the same. An almost exact copy of what she'd forced herself to remember him as. Only… this wasn't a memory or some moment captured by a camera. He was really standing there, looking like he'd never even gone away, like he'd never left her alone.

On that thought her emotions flipped dangerously fast.

"Get out of here!" she growled.

It was his turn to be dumbstruck. "What?"

"You heard me!" She yelled. "Go back to where ever the hell it is you've been all this time!"

He looked more startled than hurt so she ignored the guilt growing in the back of her head when he said her name, "Sam…"

She glared at him waiting for him to leave. She stopped soon after, realizing he wasn't planning on going anytime soon.

"Fine! If you don't want to leave I will!"

She turned quickly and tried to climb back up the hill.

She wanted the stupid mourners back. She'd take the damn fliers and business cards and the misplaced pity and all their stupid condolences for two people who weren't even dead.

Anything would be better than being there. With someone else who was supposed to be dead, but wasn't. Another zombie to add to her list. Another liar. Another lie.

She slipped and slid down the wet grass on her knees and stayed where she stopped. She couldn't find the will to stand up and run. She couldn't handle this right now. Of all the times he had to go and pop up he had to pick _then_? Where was he months ago? Where was he years ago? _He_ was the one who left, he shouldn't be able to just take it all back after fourteen years.

Why was he even here?

She dropped her head and stared at the ground.

Why the hell had Finn Turner bothered to rise from the dead?

"I'm sorry."

She tensed at his words at first.

He's just feeling guilty, she told herself. That was the only reason he bothered to find her. He just wanted a clear conscience and if this was how he got it, then so be it. So what if he had to go to the trouble of faking an apology to a stupid girl.

She shook the thought from her head as quickly as it had come.

Slowly she remembered the words and them sink in; she relaxed again. She'd heard more lies in her life than she cared to even attempt to recall, but that wasn't one of them.

She felt his jacket go around her shoulders and a hood cover her head.

She let out a tired, "It's a little late for that."

Finn stood there slowly getting drenched. As he shoved his hands in his pockets sadly he let go of a breath. It was obvious that she wasn't too happy to see him. Okay… in the whole five minutes he'd been there she'd never once looked happy to see him. But, at least she'd acknowledged him again.

"I know its a few years too late to say I'm sorry…"

She looked up at him seriously. "I was talking about the jacket."

He stared blankly at her. "Oh,"

She stood up and brushed the dead leaves off of her legs. She looked up at him again and saw his expression hadn't changed much. He was still very much confused, and looking slightly embarrassed. She decided to spare him the added embarrassment and trouble of having to explain to the 'associates' who he was and why he wasn't dead.

Or maybe she just wanted to know why he was really there.

"If you want to go back to the funeral I understand,"

She laughed as an image of the appalled socialites came to mind.

"Well since we're both soaked I don't think we should bother the mourners."

She only stopped laughing when she felt a slight pang in her stomach and remembered she'd run out before they'd served any edible food.

She put her hands on her hips and smirked.

"So father of mine.."

"Yes?"

"Do you know where I _really _want to go?"

**---------------------------**

"God, if I'd known it'd be this easy I would have skipped the emotional breakdown and went straight to the blackmail."

Finn laughed secretly glad she had inherited _his _sense of humor. After all, there were worse things she could be joking about at the moment.

"So dad," she paused to take a drink and also think over her words carefully one last time, suddenly consciously aware that she had to be careful of what she said around him, at least for a while.

"Were you surprised to see me there?"

He shook his head, "I was surprised you even knew who I was."

She was quiet for a moment. She wanted to say she was surprised too but in a messed up way she wasn't. She didn't want to say that she'd been more surprised that he was standing there at her mother's grave than the fact that he was alive and standing. The more she thought about it she'd never really believed it when Aida had told her he'd died.

She really didn't want to say all that so she settled for a short, simple, to the point answer to his statement.

"I've seen pictures."

"Pictures?" he questioned.

She smiled. He sounded almost horrified. Maybe he was a vampire and his picture couldn't be taken. Or maybe he was one of those people who believed that cameras steal a persons soul.

She smirked.

She'd used that one when a photographer had tried to take a picture of her and… she thought about it and settled on _Peter_.

She dropped the thought quickly.

"Aida was actually a very sentimental person."

He scoffed. "She could've fooled me."

She played with a straw wrapper sitting in front of her almost debating standing up for Aida. But she couldn't. She wanted to, but no defense came to mind. She was sort of an ice queen.

Finn took her silence the wrong way almost instantly.

"I heard about what happened."

Sam started to rip the paper into tiny pieces.

_Pity Party. _"Who hasn't?"

He looked at her for any hint of emotion but couldn't find any. He frowned, beginning to worry about the fact that she was being so quiet suddenly. She diverted her attention from the pile of shredded paper and back to her father's face.

"So, are you going to tell me why you're really here or not?"

"You think I have an ulterior motive?"

She sighed and simply said, "I know you do."

He smiled. "I'm here to take you back with me."

She stared at him silently causing him to push back his hair nervously. He hadn't exactly been expecting her to say yes and jump for joy at the idea but he hadn't thought she'd be _that _surprised.

"Well you're not eighteen yet and I cant let you live all alone and I am your legal guardian so it my responsibility to take care of you until…"

She stifled a laugh as he continued rambling on nervously.

So this was her dad. Not exactly the most composed person she'd ever met, but she couldn't exactly blame him for being a nervous wreck.

After all, its not every day you pick up the paper and see your mother-in-law on the front page because her funeral is later that day. And its not everyday you read the accompanying story about how she and your secret daughter's fiancé were killed in a house fire while said secret daughter lay bleeding a few blocks away in her apartment while her cousin's friend tried to keep her alive. And she was pretty sure its not every day that you go to the funeral and end up at your late wife's grave with your secret daughter screaming at you that you're supposed to be dead and then telling you to disappear like you're a freaking hallucination or something. Then after telling her why you _really _drove hours to see her she stares at you emotionlessly as she's stuck in her own little world thinking about stupid things like how you probably don't do things like this everyday…

She shook her head and stopped her train of thought. She realized her dad had never stopped talking and was now looking. She held up a hand signaling him to shut up.

She'd already made up her mind.

**---------------------------**

TBC... O course. .


	2. Degrees of Denial

**2.**

It had only been two months.

Two months that didn't matter anyway. It was just some small insignificant amount of time. They were just two months where he'd just gone about things like it was business as usual.

Like nothing had changed.

Like that last summer had never happened.

Though in a way it hadn't.

When the two of them had come back alone there seemed to be a unanimous realization. She wasn't coming back. Probably ever. Not that he'd really expected her to. Even if she did she wouldn't stay. She was never supposed to stay.

That's why he didn't understand why they were acting this way.

Scratch that. He knew _exactly_ why he was acting this way.

He just didn't want to admit it.

As far as he was concerned that topic of conversation was taboo. What had or hadn't happened between them was strictly a don't ask don't tell type of deal.

Don't ask, cause he wont tell.

Please don't ask; because he was trying to forget.

It only took two weeks for everything to go back to the way it was before. Back to the same 'ol same 'ol. Back to the routine boredom and the killing of time.

Only two weeks for them to stop acting like she'd existed. Eight weeks and there was no trace of her left. His hair had even lost the last of its purple tint.

After two weeks he'd stopped making excuses for why certain places were off limits. Why certain actions of words made him angry. Why at the mention of rain he got lost in his thoughts. Why he didn't like to pass by certain spots in the park. He stopped making stupid excuses for why he didn't want to go to that diner.

He stopped making excuses all together.

It was pointless, since he couldn't convince himself.

Even if everyone else bought the stupid excuses he didn't.

He knew the truth.

Just him and Dal.

So it was too bad that Dal was god knows where.

**---------------------------**

Dal had left in mid-September.

He'd just stopped talking to anyone but Two after the taboo was placed. Two weeks later, was the night before he disappeared.

He'd sat on the Curtis' porch and drank his beer.

He'd sat there and quietly stared out into space.

When anyone tried to talk to him he'd ignore them. The only person he would have acknowledged was Two-Bit, but he knew well enough to leave him alone.

It was around midnight when he stood up and left. He put out his cigarette and chucked the empty beer bottle he'd been holding and started walking down the road. That was the last time they saw him.

By the time they'd realized that Dallas wasn't coming back he'd already skipped town. His place was empty, his car gone. It was like Dallas Winston had never existed there.

In three weeks his house was sold and everyone stopped thinking he might come back.

They knew that he was gone too.

He never said where he was going.

When or if he was coming back.

He left without saying a real goodbye.

He never said why he was leaving; though everyone assumed they knew.

They assumed wrong.

**---------------------------**

Two months; and everything was back the way it had been, sans Dallas Winston.

Two months; and he was beginning to forget what it was they weren't supposed to talk about. What no one was mention around him. He'd begun to revert back to his normal mannerisms. He'd started acting like his old self again. Laughing and drinking and watching Mickey Mouse.

Two months; and he'd improved his acting. His lying. His poker face.

If they believed everything was alright in his little head they were wrong. If they thought he'd really forgotten they were sadly mistaken.

He thought the phrase 'out of sight out of mind' was a bunch of crap. Who ever said it hadn't been talking about her. That phrase did not apply to Sam, at least not where he was concerned.

Not that he could ever be tied with her outside of Tulsa. Outside of his small circle of friends who refused to acknowledge she was still alive. Outside of Dallas who was MIA. Outside of Peter Kelly who wasn't real and Steven White who was dead. Outside of her. Outside of himself.

Outside of these people who all had some reason why they couldn't testify to its authenticity, no one even knew that Two-Bit Mathews could be connected to Samantha Turner. Even with those six degrees of separation. Not that he _needed _six. One was enough. Now how they were connected could be debated. Had there not been the ban on all things Sam it would've been.

Had he been smarter he would have known for himself exactly what to label that one degree of separation as, but he wasn't so he didn't.

**---------------------------**

You can imagine his surprise when the letters come.

All of them addressed to Keith Mathews of Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Keith Mathews, because there's no Two-Bit Mathews in the phone books, or the state records, or the police files, or on his birth certificate. Not that he knows that's how they found him.

Not that he knows they were looking at the paper reading a story about a fire and a shooting when they see him standing next to her in a picture they didn't even know had been taken.

Not that he knows that because of that one picture theyfigured outwhat that one degree _really_ is. Who ever 'they' is.

No. He doesn't have a clue, because if he did none of this would have happened.

If he had known who that letter was from he probably wouldn't have ever opened that stupid envelope.

But he didn't.

And he did.

And the next day he was taking that flight to Miami.

**---------------------------**

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter and the long update gap.

Ugg school started so I've been swamped with work the past few days.

But anyway, expect updates on Sundays from now on.

Maybe a few in between if I have time.


	3. Actions Speak Louder Than Words

**3.**

_Things could be worse._

He didn't believe in the whole 'knock on wood' superstition she had concerning those four words. As far as he was concerned that's all they were; words. Words did not cause bad things to happen, unless they were said to the wrong people that is.

At the moment he really couldn't have cared less about some stupid superstition and the cosmic consequences of his actions.

At that moment he was lying flat on his back in the grass with the wind knocked out of him, eyes screwed shut because of the headache that started when his head slammed into the ground when he stopped rolling and found himself suddenly unable to move.

Last thing he remembered he had just been standing there minding his own business and then he'd been attacked, thrown down a rather hard bumpy hill and pinned to the ground beneath his attacker.

And that's where he was.

Not the situation you want to find yourself in.

Though he had to admit. His attacker was kinda comfortable.

He felt the weight on his chest rise up and whoever the 'weight' belonged to let out a soft moan. He had to fight to keep a straight face. Because whoever had tackled him was now straddling him… and he was about ninety-nine percent positive it was a girl.

Whoever she was she was gently rubbing the lump forming on her head when she realized what kind of position she was in and jumped off of him quickly.

He silently mourned the loss but he quickly reminded himself to focus as he heard someone running up to him.

"Are you okay?"

By the voice he guessed it was a little girl. There was no response to the question so he assumed they had just nodded or something.

The next voice he heard was a guy's.

"Gods woman do you always attack people like this?"

He gave himself a mental pat on the back. He knew it was a girl.

He didn't have much time to celebrate his small victory because he felt someone poke his face.

"Is he dead?"

He felt someone kick him in the side not so gently and he groaned. The tumble down the hill had apparently left him a little sore.

"If only it was that easy…"

He cracked his eye open and smirked, he knew that voice. He'd missed that voice. That voice was the reason he was _there. _Not that he'd tell her that, ever. His pride and her ego wouldn't allow it.

Then the person who the voice belonged to nudged his side again. "Oi, get up."

He sat up and rubbed his eyes adjusting to the brightness again.

He looked up at her as she stood above him hands on her hips looking torn between actions. What those actions were he wasn't sure, but with her he always assumed at least one involved some form of violence.

The threats of bodily harm aside he took the chance to annoy her a little.

"Since when do you say 'Oi' Sam?"

She smiled un-phased by his mocking tone of voice.

"Since I started hanging with Sonny."

She pointed to the kid standing next to her and Two-Bit was slightly annoyed to see Sonny was the teenage boy he'd spotted earlier. He was about the same height as Sam, maybe a few inches taller, had messy black hair and glasses, and this 'I don't give a shit' air about him. He didn't see anything "sunny" about the kid.

"Sunny?"

"Sonny," She said again. "As in Sampson Harris." She stressed the –son part trying to make it clear.

He didn't catch it. He'd been too busy with the last name.

_Damn._

He'd secretly been hoping for Turner. But really at the moment he would have preferred anything to Harris. He was distracted by this and didn't notice when the little girl stood in front of him smiled.

"Hi!" She said quickly.

"Hi…" He said slowly slightly frightened by the happy little girl.

"I'm Alice. I'm five!" She held up a hand and spread her five fingers out to further express the point.

She dropped her hand after she felt he'd had a good amount of time to look at her fingers. Then she pointed to the boy next to her, "That's my brother he's…"

She stopped for a second to try and count out on her fingers but gave up frustrated after awhile.

"Too old for this." He sighed. Then he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose hiding his eyes from view.

Sonny turned to him questioningly, "Who are you exactly?"

"Two-Bit Mathews." He said with a smirk.

Alice looked at him almost accusingly. "Are you Sammy's boyfriend?"

He sat there for a second with a look of confusion on his face. Not because he had no clue about the identity of 'Sammy', he'd figured out who that was when Sonny snickered and Sam brought her fist down onto the top of his head viciously.

No, he was clear on all parts of the question. It was just the boyfriend part that threw him off. "Uh…" He didn't know what to say. Knowing full-well that if he said the wrong thing it'd come back to haunt him.

"Why do you ask?"

He gave himself a mental pat on the back.

_Good non-committable answer self. _

"She's trying to figure out why you're here."

He looked back to Sam who was giving him a 'look'. One that seemed to mean she wasn't too happy to see him. "I'm trying to figure that out myself actually."

He suddenly became very interested in his fingers.

He didn't exactly want to tell her the truth about his little plan seeing as he'd just realized not five minutes ago how completely stupid and irrational it was. Not that he'd really cared until he'd realized just how quickly Sam was going to realize just how completely stupid and irrational _he _was.

"Well, you see that's a good story… Yeah it's a funny story.. you see… Um… Well what happened was…"

He went on like that for another minute before she sighed seeing he was getting nowhere. After she thought for a second she came up with a quick solution.

"Alice, why don't you and Sonny go tell Cookie that we have another person staying for dinner."

Alice looked from the stuttering Two-Bit to Sam and when she did she caught the hint in her eyes. She smiled almost evilly for a five year old.

"Okay Sammy. Come on Sunny."

She grabbed his hand and started to skip off pulling the boy nearly twice her size behind her reluctantly. Sam watched as the pair skipped/walked angrily away. As soon as she was sure they were out of earshot she turned back to face Two-Bit.

"Why are you here?" she hissed.

After seeing the kids were leaving he had quickly regained his composure. Two-Bit smirked as he stood and brushed himself off; quickly returning to his usual self and not the stuttering mess he'd just been reduced to.

"Well you see Sammy, when a man and a woman love each other very much—"

Much to his disappointment she ignored the mention of 'Sammy'.

"You know what I mean, why are you _here_?"

He feigned hurt, "I thought you'd be overjoyed to see me."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest angrily.

"Excuse me if I didn't jump for joy when I saw you-"

He smirked and took a step towards her. "But you did jump… on me."

She was about to smack him when he caught her hand in its path. He reached into his jacket pocket and slipped an open envelope into her open palm.

She looked at the piece of paper questioningly. "What is this?"

He let go of her wrist and stuck his hands deep into his pockets.

"Read it and find out."

She lifted up the torn flap and pulled out a thick piece of card stock. She glanced down at it and back up at him before she actually read what the words said.

"You are cordially invited to the Turner- Harris Wedding. December 15th…"

She trailed off as the details started.

_Okay, _she thought, _That explains how he knew where to go and how he's here._

But not why.

She flipped over the envelope and saw who it was addressed to. Not Two-Bit, but Keith Mathews. She stared at the paper in her hands like she expected it to answer her questions before she looked to him; only to find him already staring at her. He didn't look too happy. "When were ya gonna tell us?"

"About the wedding?" She questioned.

He nodded half-heartedly angry.

She shrugged, "I didn't think you guys needed to know."

_Didn't need to know?! _ His brain screamed.

"I didn't really think it was all that important."

_Wasn't that important?!_

"I didn't think you'd care, really."

And that was the last straw.

"Why wouldn't we care?! Didn't we care the last time?! God you act like nothing's happened! You send us away, no goodbye or nothing, no calls no visits no mention you're even alive! And then I get _this_ and I come to get some answers and all you can say is that you thought it wasn't important?! You think I'm not going to come down and see who the hell this Harris guy is and why the hell after a few months you feel the need to…"

He would have kept going if Sam hadn't busted up laughing in the middle of his tirade. He glared at her rather angrily.

This was where she was supposed to apologize to him, realize what a horrible person she'd been to alienate her best friend, tell him she was making a horrible mistake and tearfully tell him she would be going back to Tulsa where she belonged.

That was what was "_supposed" _ to happen.

But things were obviously not going to go the way they were supposed to; since she was _not_ supposed to laugh at him.

Suddenly feeling very stupid he gritted his teeth angrily, "What is so goddamn funny?!"

She stopped laughing long enough to say "You," but not much else.

He dropped back on to the ground and sat Indian style looking at her angrily. "What ever I don't care anymore."

She regained her composure quickly knowing she didn't have time to waste laughing at the oblivious idiot sitting there acting like a little kid who got made fun of.

"You don't care about what?"

"You or Sampson."

She paused for a second realizing exactly what he was thinking.

"You think Sampson's getting married?"

He nodded.

"To me?"

He growled something incomprehensible and she sighed seeing this wasn't the right tactic. She kneeled down on the ground in front of him and patted his head comfortingly.

"Sampson isn't the one getting married his sister is."

He looked up at her confused. "You're marrying a chick?"

She resisted the urge to slap him upside the head only because she didn't think he needed any more damage done to his brain. Instead she yelled, because yelling _always _works.

"I'm not getting married to anyone!"

"Then who is ?!"

She crossed her hands over her chest and grinned when she said, "Marco Turner."

After a quick yet confusing explination of exactly who Marco was all Two-Bit was able to say was, "You're _uncle _is getting married?"

"Yep."

"Then why am I here?" he whined, very confused.

She shrugged, "Wasn't my doing."

She turned away from him for a second to look back toward the house. He knew why. He'd had the feeling they'd were being watched since he'd been tackled.

At first he'd brushed it off as paranoia, but now… he was beginning to think it might not be so uncommon to be watched around here. Either way…

He spoke the first thought that came to mind.

"You wanna go inside?"

She still was facing the house watching carefully for something.

She nodded her head without looking back at him and started to make her way up the steep incline leaving him at the bottom.

In the back of his mind he was still holding his position that things could be worse than being invited to some the wedding of a friend's cousin's long lost father's little brother. Especially when said friend's cousin just so happened to be Sam.

Then a thought struck him. And he decided to roll with it.

"Sammy…" He called from the bottom of the hill.

She turned around looking only slightly annoyed with him now.

"What?"

"Missed you." She stared at him for a second assessing what he'd said. She sighed and spoke to him like an adult would talk to a child, "If you missed me act like it." Then she turned around but stood at the top of the hill unmoving.

He stared at her blankly for a second before she said anything.

"Are you coming or am I going to have to wait here all day?"

Two-Bit smirked and followed her up to the house.


	4. 10 Simple Rules

**4.**

She was having a hard time believing any of this was happening. Maybe when she fell she'd hit her head just a little too hard… maybe this was all some strange coma induced hallucination.

Truthfully she was finding it hard to believe he'd spent hours on a plane for her. Even if it _was _because he wanted to yell at her. Why exactly he was yelling at her she hadn't exactly caught. Not that it really mattered. The 'why' had never really mattered to her anyway.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't secretly pleased though.

Lying if she claimed that when she'd saw it was him she'd physically assaulted a smile _hadn't _crept onto her face for half a second before she'd banished it.

Lying if she said she wasn't glad to see him; the one and only stupid, immature, childish, clown that was Keith 'Two-Bit' Mathews.

If she said she hadn't missed him, not even slightly, then she'd most definitely be lying.

And though she was overly joyed to see him there, she knew there was a time and a place for everything. Now was not the time. Not when she had the bad feeling in her gut about why he was there. Not when she knew it wasn't safe to show too much emotion when you didn't know who was watching…

And especially not when you did.

She had a hunch, not something to worry about just yet, but not something to completely ignore either.

Not here.

Not now.

Not when _she _was lurking in the shadows somewhere.

She repressed the urge to shiver at the all too true image of the woman she knew was always watching her from the shadows and snuck a glance behind her.

She fought the urge to smile.

He was still following behind her quietly like some faithful puppy.

She sighed.

He was hopeless. He never could never take a hint. And he could only obey a direct order for so long.

So far his all time record was two months. Which wasn't much considering she'd been shooting for something closer to forever.

Yes, forever would have been nice.

But it would never happen.

She would just have to deal with the fact that she was stuck with him for as long as he wanted her to be. She'd have to accept that it wasn't her choice anymore. That _this_, what ever it was, was out of her hands.

The paranoia was proof that him being there was going to be bittersweet.

That even though she didn't want to jinx it in the back of her mind she already knew there was some ulterior motive for that invitation. That it wasn't a mistake, it was step one of some very carefully thought about plan.

Someone had to have known exactly what they were doing by brining him there. Exactly what was bound to happen.

Someone was out to get her.

Her in mind she laughed at herself.

Either everything she'd thought was true, or the bump to the head had rattled her brain.

**---------------------------**

The sad thing is she wished she had somehow screwed up her head.

She had lived long enough to know paranoia always has a foundation. Every bad feeling had some basis. Someone was always watching.

That's why she'd learned to recognize the low buzz the security cameras made when the changed positions. That's why she learned their locations and their ranges. She'd learned the schedule of guard rotations, and memorized all the secret access codes.

Living at Turner Estate was like living in a very plush maximum security prison. Two things she'd never really enjoyed was captivity and over luxury, the two things that Turner Estate seemed to center around.

BZZZ. The camera A52, hidden in the base of the statue of William Turner, had caught their movement.

BZZZ. Camera C23, located in plain sight, had just zoomed in on the two of them.

BZZZ. Camera D12, placed just above the main entry way, focused in Sam's face.

"Sam…"

So she wasn't being completely paranoid, he'd noticed it too.

More cameras than usual were following their every movement. More mechanical eyes were watching them.

"Ignore them and pretty soon they'll ignore you." She said simply as she pushed open the massive doors.

"You have to act like you don't care if they're watching you,"

Four more cameras were suddenly trained on them.

"Because if you do,"

Six.

"It starts to get worse."

Eight.

"Things get worse than that?" he questioned.

She stopped in front of another pair of large wooden doors. Twelve cameras were buzzing from their hidden places. Some in the frames of pictures of her long dead relatives, others in the shadowy corners of the hallway, most placed offensively in plain sight. Like there was nothing to hide about the fact that you couldn't hide. They were being obvious and upfront about their insane need for security and control.

And still he thought the worse they had was an iron fence and some men and cameras who watched your every move.

He'd only spent fifteen minutes there so she didn't blame him for not realizing that was only the tip of the iceberg.

She lifted her hand up to the door but paused. She turned her head back and faced him.

"Brace yourself."

She pounded lightly on the door and waited.

"Its open."

With one last look behind her she opened the door.

**---------------------------**

_Brace yourself. _

Not because what was about to happen was going to shock him.

Not because what he'd see was going to surprise him.

Not because something was about to rock his world.

No.

She'd meant to physically brace himself for the attack from the huge mess of fur and slobber that lay behind the door. He'd realized that shortly after he'd ended up on his back with a slobbering panting _beast _standing over him.

Twice.

He'd been tackled and pinned to the ground with no warning _twice _today. The first time hadn't been _horrible_ experience. He'd even enjoyed it once he got past the bruises from tumbling down that hill; but this time there didn't seem to be an upside. Unless you counted the fact that the dog wasn't ripping his throat out for lack of familiarity an upside. And he wasn't.

"Moose! Come 'ere baby!" The dog was gone in a flash leaving Two-Bit pressed into the red carpet silently cursing the mutt and then the girl over-affectionately greeting it.

He sat up and was finally able to see into the room that had held the beast. There were two people sitting around a table watching them. Laughing at the shameless display of affection.

"Aww did the baby miss me?! Yes he did!"

He gagged at the cuteness of it all.

Baby talk.

Bleh.

She tore herself away from the mutt and looked at him and smiled.

"Come."

Great. Now not only was she giving more love to the damn dog, but she was talking to him like he was one. Thought it only made it worse that he was actually obeying her command.

None of this was good for his image.

She pulled him into the room and stood behind him.

"Marco, do you have any clue who this is?"

Marco was a fairly young guy, probably mid twenties, with dark reddish brown hair that kind of resembled Sam's. His eyes were this strange shade of green that almost looked emerald. He shook his head no but then something seemed to click. He smiled showing off his perfect set of teeth.

"Wait. Are you that Mathews guy?"

Two-Bit nodded thinking he was about to get an explanation, Sam got angry knowing her hunch had been right.

Marco turned to the man sitting next to him and smirked.

"Told ya."

"I guess you did."

Sam watched them expectantly.

"Who was it?" she demanded.

The smile faded off Marco's face.

"Who do you think would pull a stunt like this?"

Sam growled and stomped out of the room Moose following behind her pleasantly oblivious to what was going on. Two-Bit stood there, in a similar state of mind, minus the pleasantly part.

"You should probably follow her." It was Marco.

"Maybe she wont kill Finn if there's a witness." That was the mystery guy.

"Finn?"

"Her daddy dearest." Marco said drenched in sarcasm.

"Oh."

He didn't bother to question why Sam would be out to kill a father that was already dead, or why she seemed so angry at the fact that he'd been the one behind his reappearance. He turned tail and followed after her.

Then he realized something.

Sam was no where in sight.

The house was huge.

And he had no idea where she'd gone.

"Down the hall third door on the right."

He turned and smiled thankfully at Marco, before rushing off in the right direction this time.

**---------------------------**

"**Why the hell are you doing this?!" **

Bingo. Samantha Turner has been located.

That or she yells extremely loud.

_Actually she does. _

But that was completely beside the point.

The point being that she was yelling at Finn, her supposedly living dead father in a place where the cameras where always watching. There were probably security guards rushing to the scene as they spoke, yelled and got yelled at, to prevent the murder of said living-dead father.

"Sam I _think _you know why I did it."

"What kind of cop out is that?!"

"Its not a cop out sweetie it's the truth."

"Don't give me that bull…"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You'll thank me for this later on."

"What makes you so sure this will happen the way you want it to?"

"What makes you so sure it wont?"

Two-Bit leaned in a little closer to try to hear her mumbled response. What the hell was she saying? On that note what the hell were they talking about? It didn't sound like they were talking about something simple like an invitation to a wedding anymore.

"If you're going to spy at least do it right."

He jumped at the sound of his voice but regained his cool pretty quickly. Couldn't let the kid see him like that.

He pushed his hair out of his face and whispered, "what is the right way then."

Sonny motioned to one of the 'hidden in plain sight' security cameras trained on them.

"They've got the right idea."

Be obvious.

Be upfront.

They'll never get suspicious.

If you don't hide there wont be anything for them to find.

"A word of advice Mathews; if you're going to sneak around spying on people, make sure you don't get caught."

Sonny tucked his hands in his pockets and began walking down the hallway again.

"Good advice Sampson."

Sampson waved to Finn over his shoulder but didn't turn back and look at them.

Finn smiled cheerfully at the confused Two-Bit but didn't say anything. He never had the chance because Sam came out of the room just then. Looking defeated and apathetic. She grabbed Two-Bit and dragged him down the hall in the opposite direction Sonny had been headed.

Finn waved goodbye and stepped back into the room shutting the door behind him carefully.

Two-Bit opened his mouth to say something but was cut off.

"First rule of Turner Estate is don't ask why anyone is here," She sighed, "I forget that rule myself at times."

Her tone went back to the monotone she had used seconds before.

"Second rule; don't talk to anyone I haven't told you is okay."

They turned a corner sharply.

"Three is don't let the cameras see anything you don't want them to."

"Four is never to accept food from anyone except me or Cook," she paused for a second then shook her head, "No, just me."

Five.

"Never go anywhere alone."

Six.

"Avoid anyone wearing an earpiece or a badge."

Seven.

"Don't tell anyone _anything _about you they don't already know."

Eight.

"Don't trust anyone. Moose is the most trustworthy creature on this piece of land."

_What about her?_

"Including me."

Nine.

"Learn the schedules of the guards, the locations of the cameras, the sounds they make, the codes if possible."

She took a deep breath and let it out suddenly.

"Go along with anything I say. Sometimes dealing with the complication of the lies is easier than the questions the truth brings."

Ten.

Ten rules about living in Turner Estate.

"Sam why are you telling me all this?"

She stopped in front of another pair of doors. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. It was in the lock and turning before she thought to answer his question.

"This is your new room."

She pushed open the doors and stepped aside.

"Welcome to Turner Estate, our very own personal hell."


	5. Hide and Seek

**---------------------------**

A/N:

The reviews on the last chapters made me vurrry happy, which lead to this early update… AND maybe another chapter this weekend? You'll just have to wait and see.

Now on with the slightly angsty chapter five!

**---------------------------**

**5. **

She was lying flat on her back in the overgrown field of grass. She knew she was hidden as long as she stayed there, lying perfectly still. Not a single muscle moving, no involuntary twitches or spasms were allowed. She'd long since trained herself against them anyway.

She heard a faint hum and resisted the urge to press herself deeper into the ground.

Any sudden movement would only make things worse.

Any attempt to hide would only cause her to be found that much quicker.

She laid there like a corpse, barely breathing. Just barely, but enough to keep her alive.

To keep her heart beating.

To keep the oxygen circulating to her brain.

To keep her conscious.

Just barely alive.

If this could even be considered living anymore…

**BZZZ.**

People didn't live in Turner Estate.

They existed.

They were watched.

They were documented.

They were captured and everything they did was filed away for future reference.

It was life recorded for your viewing pleasure.

They were like those celebrities who see flashbulbs every time they try to step out of their homes and be normal humans. They try to get on with their lives but the cameras are always there. Someone's always watching. Always waiting to find out your new secret, to see your next mistake.

She was sure that after so long you'd get used to the cameras. You'd learn to ignore the buzz that echoes through a room every time you enter it. You'd learn to stop being paranoid about movements you catch out of the corner of your eye. You'd learn to ignore it when you get the feeling you're being watched. Because you know. There's barely anytime that you're _not _being watched.

**BZZZ.**

That's why she's learned to work around this constant need for surveillance.

That's why she forces herself to remember; the rules the guards, the cameras, the sounds, the codes.

And that's why sometimes she sneaks out bathroom windows and hides in the tall grass.

That's why she lays there completely still and enjoys the total feeling of Zen she gets from it. From the quiet and the stillness of it all. And save for the occasional movement of the camera you can enjoy nature uninterrupted.

**BZZZ. **

That is until camera F13 picks up on some form of life that isn't her.

That is until that life form stands next to her on the grass and speaks to her completely giving up her position and thus effectively putting an end to her little game of hide and seek with the mechanical eyes.

Usually that life form is Sonny or Alice.

Usually they'd tell her that security's looking for her.

Usually they mention Code Blue.

Usually that's when she has to get up and go back into the house, or make an appearance for a camera. Something so that 'Code Blue' gets called off. So that they say through their little walkie-talkies and hidden microphones that it was a false alarm.

Elvis HAS NOT left the building. Repeat, Elvis HAS NOT left the building.

If she didn't know better she'd say they actually cared by the way they freak if they find her missing.

There's no buzz.

There hasn't been for awhile because all the cameras trained on him where he's sitting.

Capturing him from countless angles.

She's still hidden though.

Because he's smart enough to sit five feet to the left.

To look away from the camera before he talks to her in whispers the cameras cant pick up.

He's smart enough to know that she doesn't want to be found by anyone but him.

He's smart enough to realize that this is her version of running away, without breaking her daddy's heart. Without being a _total _disgrace to the family name.

He's smart enough to know who she is to those people running the cameras.

Samantha Turner:

Failed suicide attempt.

Sole heiress to the Madison fortune.

Heiress to a chunk of the Turner fortune.

Either way she means money. Either way she needs to be watched.

That's why she's here. In this garden of Eden. In this little slice of perfection. Because its bad for business if the poor little rich girl turns up dead.

This poor little rich girl who already has a history of near death experiences. Only _most _of them weren't her fault. Only _most _of them she didn't purposely put herself in. The poor little rich girl who tried to off herself, but failed. Because that's all this poor little rich girl does. Mess up. She's such a failure that she cant even properly kill herself.

The poor sad little girl who keeps pushing people away. Keeping everyone at a safe distance. Trying to protect them from her. The poor little girl who's ended up loosing everyone she's ever loved. Anyone she's ever gotten close to. They all end up dying.

He knows this but its not like he cares.

He's smart enough to know he's not supposed to.

**---------------------------**

"You're really unhappy here aren't you?" he asks her quietly after a few more minutes of sitting in silence.

She thinks its obvious, but she understands where his confusion is coming from. To him this place is like heaven. At first glance it looks like those gates are meant to keep people out not in. It looks like the people living there are the luckiest people on earth, not a group of people

At first glance you'd never think this place could ever be referred to as a prison. Or hell. Or the place most likely to make someone want to off themselves.

"They all look at me like any second I'm going to grab some sharp object and end it all right there and then."

Round the clock top secret suicide watch. All because some stupid lowlife tabloid writer actually, most likely unknowingly, got the story right. Because _somehow _they realized why she never filed a police report. Why she never turned in her shooter. Because who the hell would put themselves behind bars?

All because somehow they'd figured it out. Somehow she'd unknowingly confessed to it and now 'Code Blue' meant Samantha Turner might be a rotting corpse soon if we don't locate her in the next five minutes.

"I mean you shoot yourself _one _measly time…" She sighs, "And everyone looks at you like you want to do it again."

If _any _of them had asked her they'd know the chances of her attempting a stunt like that again were zero. Zilch. Nada. None. If she was going to be killed, she'd be damned if she was the one who was going to do it.

She closes her eyes and tilts her head back into the grass and up toward the sun.

"Even you think that don't you?"

She doesn't wait for him to answer because she knows he wont. She already knows its true.

"That day, you didn't even have to ask; you just knew what I'd done…Even before I told you and Dal you knew what had happened…"

He briefly wonders where all this is coming from.

She wonders if he's still there. Then decides she doesn't care either way. That this is more for her now.

"I guess you'd been hoping the bad guy was Peter…"

The bad guy? The villain? The dirty, rotten scoundrel responsible for everything horrible that had and will happen?

"But of course it was me."

And of course that had totally shattered his reality. It had just proven how little he really knew her.

"You should know right now, that I'm not a good person, everything you'll hear about me hear is probably true…"

All rumors have to be based on fact. Every lie has a bit of truth.

"You'll probably end up hating me and leaving forever when you realize all this is true," She opens her eyes and sits up now as she tells him, "But that's what I want to happen."

She brings her knees up against her chest and rests her chin on them.

"You know that though…"

Though he constantly chooses to ignore it.

"I've told you enough times…" Only three the last time he checked.

"You know I don't say these things to hurt you right?"

He also knows that, but it doesn't change the fact that they do.

"You know I'm only trying to help you right?"

He knows she's trying to save him from himself. From her.

"You might not understand now…"

She was doing all this for him, right?

For his sake?

For the greater good, right?

To keep him alive?

To keep him happy?

Oh he understood.

"The first chance you get, I want you to leave… I want you to go back to Tulsa… go home."

_What if I don't want to go back?, _he thinks. And scarily she knows what he's thinking. She's almost proving his silent point.

"You don't have to go back," she says.

But he cant stay there. She wont let him.

She turns her head to look at him finally and says in all seriousness that he can only stay until the wedding. He was invited after all.

So the way he sees it he only gets a month with her...

"After that though, you have to leave."

Go back to where he came from.

"Travel the world..."

She could really care less where he goes. As long as he gets on with his life somewhere far away from here, somewhere far away from her she'll be happy.

"How can you say that?"

She's so lost in her thoughts that it takes her a while to respond. And when she finally gets around to it it's only a half-assed sarcastic remark. An emotionless monotone, "Easily."

He just shakes his head and tells her the only way he's leaving this place is if she comes with him. Her eyebrows come together in frustration and semi-anger. Why wont he just give up already?

She'll go with him if that will get him away from this place. But she'll just end up running when his back is turned. He'll blink just a little too long one day and she'll be gone. She tells him this and he laughs at her.

"I'll just come after you." He says.

She searches his face for any sign he's kidding but it just confirms what she already knows; he's serious. He'd follow her until she gave up. Until he won.

"This isn't a game--"

They both may be in denial, but they're not stupid.

This is obvious if you think about it enough.

Its obvious it's a game. Just a different kind.

"Just face it Sam…" He looks over at her five feet away. Still sitting there curled up into herself, giving herself one giant solo hug.

He watches her and he says, "You're stuck with me."

Maybe not forever. Because he knows she's not stupid. Because they both know things happen between now and forever. Things change.

So he tells her she's stuck with him until he decides otherwise.

"So just get used to it."

**BZZ.**

He sees her flinch at the sound.

He sees her hesitate to hide from the stupid machine.

He sees her sit there and she looks so unhappy.

Suddenly he's standing up and walking over to the camera.

In a matter of seconds the plug gets pulled.

He knows that in a room somewhere the screen goes blank.

And everyone's scrambling to fix the feed.

Not that he cares.

Because for a second Sam looks happy that he's killed the stupid machine. Then its gone and she's looking at him like he's insane. Like he's just committed some horrible crime.

He just smiles and wants to tell her he'll trash as many cameras as she wants him to, just to make her happy.

She goes to reconnect the wire. He stops her though. He's holding her wrist and shaking his head.

"Leave it." He says.

It'll buy them some time.


	6. Running Out of Time

**---------------------------**

**Well I promised all you lovely people a second chapter this week and here it is.**

**---------------------------**

**6.**

She's inspecting the tall metal fence for means of escape when she asks him if he's ever seen the ocean.

He's watching her look for flaws in a security system built specifically to be flawless. He's watching her as she's looking for an escape when the whole point is to keep her from escaping. She's being too hopeful about them underestimating her. If anything, they've got her pegged perfectly. If anything, she's just wasting her time.

He turns his head away and he says never for real.

She tries to stick her foot in the chain-links of the fence but they're too small. Definitely too unstable to try to climb the twenty feet to the top.

He says, as he points out the barbed wire lining the very top, that it doesn't look like they'll be getting out anytime soon.

She says they can get out. They can get out veryeasily. All they have to do is ask, but then they'd be "escorted by a few chaperones".

Replace escorted with followed.

Replace chaperones with big beefy armed security guys.

Replace a few with five to ten, maybe twenty depending on her behavior the days prior.

Replace those words and you get the truth.

She tells him its easy to get out of Turner Estate, but only on their conditions.

She tells him she'll take him soon, but on her terms.

What she means is when she figures how to break out they'll go by themselves, sans creepy beefy men.

"Is that why you're doing this right now?"

By right now he means in broad daylight. In a place where they're highly likely to get caught.

When he points this out to her she just laughs and says that's the whole idea. Its trial and error. The point is to just keep trying until something actually works.

"Or everything fails," he says.

She backs away from the fence and stares at it for a minute angrily.

"If you're going to insist on following me around at least try to be positive."

"Excuse me for not supporting your new obsession."

"I prefer the term hobby," she jokes and he rolls his eyes.

"When are we going to go back," he asks.

Then he adds, "Its been hours."

She ignores his whining and she attempts to reach a low branch on the tree in front of her. If she could make it up the tree she could get over the fence no problem. The landing would be tricky, possibly dangerous… but she'd worry about that when the time came.

"Feel free to leave anytime," She's not forcing him to be here.

"If you like I can have your things packed by the time you make it back to the main house."

A car will be waiting at the front gate.

His plane ticket purchased.

She waits for his response but all he does is mumble something angrily.

She knows he's pissed, but at least he's stopped complaining.

Or at least he did for a few minutes.

"How much longer are you planning on keeping this up?"

She pauses long enough from her task to say, "As long as it takes."

"You've been at this for three days now Sam."

That he knows of.

She'd only been there three weeks, she'd spent two of them trying to find a way out. Really she'd been trying to escape for a while before he'd popped up. What he was seeing now was just her more concentrated efforts. She was focusing all her energy into this one thing.

She was getting desperate.

He sighs when he sees she's ignoring his whining now.

She's too short to reach the damn branch so he bends down and offers her a boost. She stops jumping around and steps onto his hand.

As he's lifting her up she smirks, "You know this makes you my accomplice."

As her partner in crime he's just as much to blame for her self destruction now. Maybe even more blame lies with him now, seeing as he's become the calm rational one. He sighs, its really sad that _he's _the rational one.

"Why do I keep letting you drag me into these situations?"

Situations where the risk is higher than the reward. Where the danger is very much real. This time its just the danger of getting discovered by a guard or a camera and being on house arrest for a few days.

"You already know house arrest is easy to get out of."

He shakes his head, "Climbing out the third story bathroom window doesn't sound as appealing as you'd think."

She tells him to keep a look out if he's so worried about getting caught.

She doesn't realize he's already been on lookout. He's been scanning the area for cameras since she chose to stop there but hasn't found any. He finds it strange that this area seems to be lacking any form of security other than the stupid fence that runs the length of the whole woods. He thinks its weird but he doesn't say anything.

He figured it was just Sam's paranoia beginning to rub off on him.

"Why do you want this so badly?"

As she climbs slowly from one branch to the next she starts to tell him about how people take freedom for granted. Really how they take everything for granted.

That saying, 'you don't know what you've got until its gone'?

She found out the hard way that its true.

"I know what you mean."

She tells him the only reason she's trying so hard is because she doesn't have much time left.

He assumes what she means is she only has the month. That all she has are those twenty-something days left before he has to go. Scratch that, the twenty some odd days before she _forces _him to go. He's almost positive that that's what she's cryptically referring to.

But he's wrong.

And she's still talking.

She's going on and on and he hears the hidden meaning in her promises to show him Miami. The beach, the ocean, whatever, and he desperately wants to tell her to shut up; but he doesn't, because at least she sounds happy about something. At least she's not being depressing and confessing her sins to him again. Confessing to evils she hasn't even committed yet.

At least she isn't trying to get him to leave her right then and there.

As if he would.

But he lets her think what ever she wants. He lets her talk about a stupid giant body of water that he really has no desire to see. He lets her talk about what ever she wants just to keep her talking. Just to keep her mind off of the matters at hand.

He's asking her questions to keep her distracted and prevent another spilling of her guts.

He's thinking up ways he can make her forget.

He's secretly hoping he can get her to change her mind.

Hoping he wont actually have to leave her eventually.

"Oh my God…"

He looks up and sees her frozen on the sixth branch. Whether its from shock or fear he doesn't know. She's staring through the leaves out past the barbed wire fence her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sam?"

"No… Why the hell is she here?" she's muttering quietly to herself but he still hears it.

"Sam!" She tears her eyes away from the offending sight and looks down at Two-Bit.

"You have to go—" She's trying to get out of the damn tree as fast as she can. She almost slips but catches her self just in time.

"Find a damn camera and tell them to get your stuff ready to go."

He doesn't move. He's too confused.

Why is she suddenly acting so panicked?

She jumped off the last branch and landed painfully on her hands and knees. She sat there for a moment letting the sting fade before she noticed he hadn't moved.

"There aren't any cameras out here are there?"

He shook his head and seemed to confirm her fear. She'd never thought she'd find herself wishing for one of those stupid machines to be watching.

She bit her bottom lip and tried to think. "The last camera is twenty-five feet into the woods."

They had to be at least fifty feet in.

"They're still fifteen maybe twenty minutes off…" She says to herself. She knows if they run it'll take them ten minutes to get back to the main house.

If they come across a camera and order for them to get him out… then they get back they'd still have time… he could leave as soon as she pulled up and then…

She shakes her head because she knows that its too late.

No matter what she does now its pointless.

"Two-Bit," she starts "Do you remember what I told you when you first got here."

He nods. He knows she's talking about the rules.

She smiles, "Good."

She tells him, "You live by them as of now."

**---------------------------**

"So this is the infamous lost Turner."

She laughed nervously not knowing whether it was meant to be a joke or not. She'd been having this problem since that woman walked through the front gate. She seemed to be smiling humorously but at the same Sam was filled with the sense that her sense of humor was actually quite...

"Finn, are you sure thisis _your_ daughter?"

Malicious.

Sam had to restrain herself from physically assaulting the woman looking at her like she was trash. It took all her self-control not to just reach out and--

Then like it suddenly dawned on her what she'd just thought about doing she had to fight a laugh.

She was getting too violent.

Sam snapped out of her thoughts and looked curiously at the man lounging in a chair a few feet away.

Because really, how do you respond to that? An insult hidden in a reasonable question. Well, about as reasonable as this woman's questions seemed to get.

Finn looked over at the pair out of the corner of his eye and grinned. "Auntie are you telling me you don't see the resemblance?"

'Auntie' looked from her nephew then back at the girl standing in front of her and sighed dejectedly.

Even she had to admit there seemed to be a slight physical resemblance between the two of them. She was almost the younger feminine version of her father.

_Except those eyes. _

Blue eyes were never in the Turner genes.

"I suppose there is a _slight _resemblance…" But she never really was one to give in completely.

"Well whether or not you are Finn's daughter you still must be wondering why your little friend was brought here--"

Sam scowled and glanced over at her father, "If you're planning on feeding me the same lie he did don't even bother."

_The same lie. _ The woman smirked and raised a hand up to her cheek. "I suppose it wouldn't make much sense to repeat ourselves would it?"

"No, it wouldn't." Sam was suddenly glad she'd banished Two-Bit to his room before she'd faced their visitor.

"Well since you're such a bright child I'm sure you understand why you're here," she wicked smirk grew now, "And that you will not leave this place until certain requirements are satisfied."

Sam's eyes dropped to the floor. "I understand."

The woman's hand dropped back to her side and she became serious once again.

"Good."

She gave Sam one last look of dislike and superiority before turning and leaving the room. Sam silently celebrated when 'Auntie' left. Then she heard the door open again and turned around only to see her back and smiling evilly.

"Oh and Samantha," She smiled wider at the wince the name received but quickly returned to her serious state.

"You'd better figure it out soon,"

She turned away from Sam but stood in the doorway as she drummed her fingers on the doorframe menacingly.

"It would be unfortunate if something were to happen to that lovely friend of yours."

She took a step out into the hallway and allowed the smile to return.

"Very unfortunate…"

**---------------------------**

**A/N: **

**DUN DUN DUN!!! **

**Who is this evil mystery woman?**

**And what does she want with Sam?**

**Tune in next week to find out! **

**---------------------------**


	7. Saving Sam

**7.**

She stood paralyzed for a moment.

But not because she was scared. Not in any sense of the word did _Auntie's _little threat scare her.

It just made her angry.

Unfortunate?

Damn right it would be unfortunate.

It'd be unfortunate 'cause the only way she was letting someone hurt Two-Bit was over her dead body; and she'd be damned if she didn't take _someone _down with her.

She's not afraid, yet after those few words she finds herself unable to breathe or blink, let alone commit some voluntary action.

So instead she just stands there in shock; unable to function all because of one stupid little threat to one stupid little boy who she suddenly felt guilty for dragging into the whole mess that was her stupid little life.

It's all the guilt….

All the worry…

All the misplaced anger…

It all that and everything else that's piling up in her gut that has her stuck to that one spot of the carpet. Its that little voice in the back of her head that's telling her what she knows is right. Those two simple words that she's starting to believe.

No matter how hard she tries to deny it she knows its true. It's obvious… "She's right."

She's surprised when she realizes the words are coming out of her mouth.

"She is?" Apparently her daddy dearest is surprised too.

_He shouldn't be though…_

After all wasn't he practically telling her the same thing not too long ago? Wasn't he the one who had brought Two-Bit there for that reason; to 'help' her make up her mind?

Its all true but she ignores that fact for the moment. Sam nods and she's still standing in the same position Auntie left her in. Only now she's starting to believe she's simply refusing to move. So instead she starts to ask questions she already knows the answers to.

"I thought she wasn't coming back for a few weeks…"

Finn sighs and though he knows what she's doing he answers her anyway. "Someone called her and told her about your visitor."

Someone… meaning not him.

Also meaning he either doesn't know who, or is hiding the fact that he does.

"Who?" she questions feeling that the latter is the right assumption.

"Beats me."

Liar, She thinks, Hypocritical backstabber.

She mutters, "For someone who knows so much you don't know shit."

Her daddy dearest just smirks and tells her the same could be said about her.

"After all," he says "You still haven't made up your mind."

What he's trying to say is very clear to her.

He's telling her that she's being incredibly stupid.

He's telling her that its obvious.

He's telling her it doesn't take a genius to make the right choice when its staring her in the face.

Between the lines he's trying to tell her not to make the same mistake he did.

She narrows her eyes at him and tells him to stop meddling. That she would live longer if everyone would just keep their noses out of her business. That things were better when no one gave a shit about her and what she did.

Her hands form fists and she snarls, "I'm sick of this."

Sick of always being watched.

Sick of being stuck here with them.

Sick of being used.

"As soon as I find a way out I'm gone."

As soon as she disappears they can do what ever they damn well please.

He leans back into the chair and tells her to stop running.

That everything has a way of catching up with you in the long run. That you can only hide for so long.

"I mean this is just proof of that right Sammy?"

This is all just living proof that you cant run forever.

"You're wrong."

"No," he says sitting up straight, "I'm right."

He looks her straight in the eyes and tells her, "You're the one who doesn't know shit Sam." He stands up and walks toward her.

"You don't even understand why your still alive."

He tells her, "You should be dead right now."

**---------------------------**

She had sprawled herself across his bed a while ago.

She'd laid out on her back and began to search for pictures in the stucco ceiling. Anything to kill some time. Anything to take her mind off of the task at hand. She blinked and found the outline of a duck. She shut her eyes and let out an aggravated breath. How much longer would she have to wait? If it was much longer she was going to loose her nerve.

She had come expecting a barrage of questions, expecting to lie her ass off or spill her guts. She had walked through the door already accepting that this was one of those, the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth situations.

That if she wasn't going to tell him everything she couldn't tell him anything.

She'd laid herself across the bed and stared at the ceiling expecting him to any second come in a question her appearance.

She'd been expecting for him to suddenly speak. To ask her some stupid question, but he never did.

She slowly turned her head to the empty spot beside her.

Where the hell was he anyway?

She had started to wonder if he'd already figured it all out and he'd left. If he'd found out the _awful _truth about her and decided she wasn't worth his trouble.

Maybe he'd found out and decided that she was right, that it was for the best if they just severed all their ties. If they broke clean and parted ways.

Maybe he'd listened in on their little conversation and realized what the obvious choice was. And that it had absolutely nothing to do with what she wanted.

Maybe… he'd just been playing along this whole time.

Maybe he'd known all along that the wedding was just a convenient cover-up for why anyof them were there.

Maybe he'd discovered their little lie…

She paused in her thoughts.

The wedding was a cover-up, but that didn't mean it was a lie... it just wasn't the whole truth.

Nothing was the _whole _truth anyway.

Everything was just one half truth or a continuation of another. No one was completely genuine anymore. If you weren't lying through your teeth you were still weren't saying the truth. And not saying the truth was as bad as lying. Either way… you were keeping secrets. And secrets were dangerous.

She frowned.

When he finally did open his mouth she'd have to lie him.

She didn't want to keep lying to him, but she couldn't keep avoiding it.

It was safer for everyone if he didn't know.

It would just be easier for her to choose if he didn't know anything about her 'choice'. Because if he knew then he'd want to know which she was going to pick. And what would she say? 'I don't know'?

If she said that he'd just try to help her decide. She didn't want to know what he'd try…

She tucked one arm under her head and adverted her eyes from the ceiling, waiting. The clock was ticking and here she was wasting time waiting for him.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly.

She was running out of time.

She was running out of chances to run.

She needed to run.

She needed to get away… soon.

She closed her eyes and banished the thoughts.

She couldn't leave him here alone with those people.

No matter what it meant for her she had to protect him. Make sure they didn't hurt him. She had to make sure they didn't ever get the chance to…

She laid there and realized the mistake she'd made.

**---------------------------**

In the back of his mind he knew exactly what he should do.

Nod politely and walk away.

Don't say a word.

Just back away slowly.

Get away as quick as possible.

That's what he _should _do. That's what she'd told him to do. But he'd never been one to do as he was told. And as far as curiosity was concerned once he was interested in knowing something he tended to forget exactly what he should do.

Hence the numerous _almost _kidnappings of his youth.

But forget about that. He sure did.

The proof was the fact that he was standing there when he should have been running for dear life.

"So you're Samantha's friend correct?"

Nod.

"Are you sure that's all? You're not hiding something are you Mr. Mathews?" He let out a nervous laugh and began to search for possible means of escape.

This chick was crazy…

And that was putting it lightly.

She took a step towards him and as he took a step back and realized his mistake. She slowly backed him into a corner. She leaned forward and almost glared at him.

She looked him straight in the eyes and told him to ask himself who exactly _is _Samantha Turner. Because she isn't who he thinks she is.

"I'm sure you'll find out the truth soon enough…" He'll realize she's keeping secrets from him.

There was an almost sinister glint in her eyes.

"You'll figure out exactly what the truth is soon enough."

But she cant guarantee he'll like it, or even believe it for that matter.

She hasn't looked away and he can almost see the evil laughter in her eyes at this point in her little speech on the evils of Sam.

"You'll see soon enough. But I'll tell you now little boy,"

She wont let her escape.

She wont let her get away.

She wont let her 'niece' turn her back on this family.

She doesn't say this though.

What she does say is, "I wont let her pick you."

She smiles evilly and backed away slightly.

He opened his mouth to question her when some other voice filled the hallway.

"Mathews what the hell are you doing?"

Both Two-Bit and the 'crazy chick' turned to look at a confused and slightly angry looking guy. It takes him a second but it clicks were he's seen him before.

He almost says something out loud but doesn't. He just stares at the man standing in front of him more than slightly confused as to why he's rescuing him and even more confused as to why he's even able to.

The guy just sighs and motions to the empty hallway behind him.

"Sam's looking for you."

He looks at 'Auntie' and glares.

"You better go. She seems worried."

Two-Bit pulls himself away from the woman and walks toward his savior.

Their eyes meet for half a second before he hears Sam yell for him and hurries to tell her to shut up. That he's fine. That nothing happened. So stop yelling already.

The woman watches amused as he allows Two-Bit to walk off to see Sam.

She stands up straighter and pushes back her dark hair back as she voices her surprise.

"You just let him go?"

He's still glaring at her as he leans against the wall blocking her path.

Blocking the way to Two-Bit and Sam.

"Why wouldn't I?"

She smirks.

"I didn't think you were nice enough to share is all."

He practically hisses, "She's not some object you can own."

She touches his chin and lets her finger sit there.

"That's where you're wrong."

As long as she's a Turner, she belongs to them.

"You had your chance to save her,"

And he blew it.

"Who says I was the one who was supposed to save her?"

She smiles and tells him Mathews she can handle.

"He's too oblivious to realize the power he has."

Even if he does realize it he's easily manipulated.

He tells her she's underestimating him.

She smiles falsely and tells him she's _glad _that Finn brought him here. That she's sorry she didn't think of it first. She can make anything he does work to her advantage.

He's just her pawn.

He raises an eye brow and fights back a laugh.

"You're a horrible liar,"

She growls, and tells him to shut up and respect his elders.

He sighs and tells her that if she thinks he's going to sit back and watch her destroy what he worked so hard to fix she has another thing coming.

He tells her that he hasn't always done the right thing, and he's not at all a good person. But if she thinks he's going to sit back and let her screw with the one person who actually cared about him then she's insane.

He smirks, "Well you're insane anyway but that's beside the point."

It doesn't matter if she doesn't care about him that way.

He wouldn't care if she hated him…

He's still going to help her.

And if that means helping Mathews than so be it.

His smile gets wider and he stares back at her.

He tells her, that if that means he has to take _her _down a peg he'd gladly do it.

Her eyes narrow and she grips his face harshly in her hand.

"Stay out of my business." She tells him.

She says, "Its none of your concern what happens to her."

He smiles and grips her wrist.

"You made it my concern."

**---------------------------**


	8. I'm Not Dead aka The Comeback Kid

**8.**

Having people think he was crazy wasn't something new.

He'd been called insane. He'd been called demented, mental, psychotic, unhinged, a bit touched in the head, and a raving lunatic. He'd even been called barmy by some English kid, which he was almost positive meant he was considered internationally insane.

So no, having people question his mental stability was not upsetting nor particularly surprising as far as he was concerned. It was more the fact that he had recently begun to question it himself that worried him.

He was starting to regret not looking back. Not having proof that he wasn't just seeing things. He had to be seeing things. Because that couldn't possibly have been…

No.

He's dead.

Six feet under.

Worm chow.

Fertilizer.

No matter how you said it what had just happened, _couldn't have happened._

He shouldn't even be considering that… He'd seen the tapes for crying out loud.

He'd seen him die "oh so tragically" just a few months before.

He'd _seen _him go out in a blaze of fire and taking Aida Madison with him. There'd been police reports filed, news stories written, there'd been a funeral.

He'd gone. He'd seen the casket being lowered into the ground…

Which was strange seeing as they'd never found a body…

He shook his head.

That man he'd seen a few days ago couldn't have been him. There was just no way. Maybe it was his _good _twin. Some sort of clone. His doppelganger perhaps…

After all Peter Kelly, Steven White, _whoever_, had blonde hair not black.

He scratched his head thinking about how it shouldn't really surprise him if Steven _was _back.

He'd questioned how whether he'd escaped death or hell and how he'd done it endlessly.

But not once, not a single time did he second guess why he was there.

It was just that obvious.

Steven (_or was it Pete?_) had said it himself; they were more alike than they liked to admit. Hell, they were both there for the same reason. The same person. Maybe what they wanted from her was a little different, but not by much. If any at all.

He had a score to settle. His marriage had been ended before it had even begun. His plan for a perfect life torn apart at the seams.

He had come to the TurnerEstate for the same reason Two-Bit had not too long before.

He'd come back for Sam.

He sighed. There was no other possibility, that was the only rational reason as to why Steven would come back from the dead; or at least as rational as you can get when referring to people who are _supposed _to be dead.

Steven had to have come back to take what was his…

_So why wasn't he taking it then? Why was he going around saving his so called 'rival' from scary ladies?_

"Because even six-feet under he enjoys the drama." He muttered to himself.

Two-Bit leaned back against the tree and stared down the hill at the wedding rehearsal in progress. The stupid wedding that had dragged him down here in the first place.

Stupid invitation. Being so misleading making him jump to conclusions. Making him come all the way down to stupid Miami to save stupid Sam from some nonexistent fiancée. There hadn't been anyone then, but now… now stupid Steven White was back. And he was going to try and take Sam away again. He wasn't going to lose her again. He _refused _to lose her again.

His eyes found Sam where she stood looking very bored but still there. He stayed where he was resting his weight against the tree and watching the wedding proceedings wordlessly. He stood there almost in a trance. Until he was interrupted that is.

He had to physically stop himself from jumping out of his own skin when he heard someone behind him laugh, "You know usually you start thinking about marriage _after _you tell the girl you like her…"

He came up and stood next to Two-Bit either not noticing the mix between anger and horror on his face or simply not caring.

"How ya doin' Two, long time no see," he laughed, "Even longer since I wasn't exactly myself last time."

Of course he's referring to Peter Kelly. He may not be the smartest but he catches on pretty quick to what Steven's doing.

Two-Bit clenched his jaw to keep him from saying something completely _awful_ to a figment of his imagination.

He tells him to go haunt someone else, because whatever he wants out of him he's not going to get. He tells White that he's just wasting his time.

"I don't think I am dearest friend."

If it wasn't obvious before it was now just how badly he'd been misinformed of Steven's death.

Even ghosts weren't _this _freakin' annoying.

"Shouldn't you be in hiding or something?" he says with just a hint of bitterness in his voice which Kelly must have been ignoring because he just laughed and said it was no longer an issue.

From what Two-Bit remembered it might not have been; he'd lost the tan, lost some of the muscle, put on some weight, he'd changed his clothes and his hair. All in all he'd tried to reverse the Kelly effect. He'd tried to return to square one; Steven White. He'd tried to put the last few years of his life in the past.

"But you see I couldn't do that completely." And trust him, he tried. It doesn't matter that when he looks in the mirror he no longer sees Peter Kelly staring back at him. Just cleansing himself externally isn't enough.

"One of the upsides to being Kelly," he says, "Is that I never had to struggle with my conscience."

He doesn't have that luxury anymore. In some ironic delayed reaction he was now being racked with guilt over the things he'd done when he'd had no conscience.

His eyes follow the path Two-Bit's are making until they reach Sam. He smirks. He knew it… So he says it, confident that the response will be entertaining at least. He leans closer to Two-Bit and almost whispers, "You could have had her you know…"

Up until then Two-Bit had been paying him the minimal amount of attention. He wasn't watching his moves carefully he was barely aware of where he was other than the glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. He had barely been listening to Steven's little 'I need to repent my sins' speech. That didn't mean he couldn't be confused at random declarations like that.

Steven just smiled wide and let his hands firmly grasp Two's shoulders. Both of them kept their eyes locked on Sam. Two-Bit half hoping she would look over and see Steven and half hoping she wouldn't. Steven on the other hand, had a more evil wish in his mind.

"You know Mathews, that's why I'm here." He felt Two-Bit stiffen up after that and he decided to have some fun.

"It's a shame our wedding was called off, you know on account of me 'dying' and all." He paused for a minute for dramatic effect. "Though I suppose technically Sam _is _still my fiancée…"

He nearly lost the smirk on his face when Two-Bit spun around and pushed him back causing him to stumble a few steps. He stood stiffly giving Steven a look that could kill.

"Fuck off Steven. I don't _care_ whether she's your fiancée or your favorite Aunt Leslie. Just go back to whatever hole in the ground you crawled out off and LEAVE HER ALONE."

It was about then that Steven realized he now had Mr. Mathews's undivided attention.

He laughed a bit and Two shot him an even nastier glare.

He leaned in closer and hissed, "What is so damn funny?"

Then, as a horribly out of place wave of déjà vu washed over Two-Bit, Steven said, "You."

He brought a hand up to his face and dragged it down almost willing his aggravation away.

Still laughing Steven says, "You always assume the worst of me don't you?" Another half-hearted more bitter laugh, "I don't blame you. The entire time you knew me I was the asshole trying to steal your girl."

His smile is completely gone and the laughs are done when he tells Two that why he thinks he's here is completely wrong.

Sounding like a confused whiny child Two-Bit says, "Then why the hell are you _here?_"

Steven suddenly gained an evil smile that meant he had some sort of a plan.

And then he told him, "I'm here to help you."

Buzz.

Blink.

Two bit gives him a look that screams, _What did you just say?_

There's a sigh and a repeated, "I really am here to help you."

"Oh", he says, "That's what I thought."

Another Buzz.

Another Blink.

Another look, only this one asks, _Why should I trust you?_

Another sigh_,_ "I'm not the bad guy this time Matthews."

A third low Buzz, and Two-Bit rubs his eyes tiredly mentally holding on to the way Steven stressed '_this time'. _

"We shouldn't be talking about this…" At least not right now. At least not right here.

"The cameras are watching." He says it bluntly, because he's so used to saying it by now.

"Don't worry about it," Steven says, "They aren't watching _us._"

His head makes a movement that's a cross between a nod and a sideways jerk as he motions down toward the wedding party. Towards Sam.

It's a not subtle motion in anyway, but Two is able to ignore it easily. He tilts his head toward the tree planted a few feet from the one he's leaning on and smirks.

He says to Steven, don't fool yourself.

He tells him, "There's always someone watching…"

He steps out into the shade of the tree where its so dark all the camera can pick up are the outlines of their bodies in the shadows.

"I know where we can go," he says more to the reflection Steven in the cameras lens than the one standing on the opposite side of the tree trunk.

He tells him about the spot where there's no cameras. The no man's land in the woods. Its safe there. Two says that's where they should go.

"Then," he says, "You can tell me more about your little plan…"


	9. Steven White's Guide To Romance

9

**9.**

She watches as they walk off one screen and into the next. Both of them moving silently towards the woods. Out of the sight, but not out of mind. Within seconds she's lost them in the thick fake underbrush and she's cursing silently to herself.

It didn't matter what you called her, Auntie, Becca, Devil Lady, she still felt the same as she watched Steven walk off with Mathews. As she saw them slowly leave the range of her mechanical eyes Rebecca-Marie Winslow was not at _all_ happy.

She still felt like she was taking a giant step backwards by not calling security or the police.

She'd had one job, just one simple task to complete, and she hadn't done it yet.

Her worst fear was quickly becoming a reality. For the first time in her life the possibility of failure was _very _real. Even when she'd laid out a carefully thought out plan and set up everything just perfectly everything had gone to shit.

That's why now, almost fourteen years after all this trouble started she's pacing the floor and waved her hands wildly around her. Throwing one hell of a temper tantrum.

"The first one I could handle," she says referring to Two-Bit offhandedly, "But Steven is too much."

Never mind she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him for almost three days before then. Forget that he had only been there for a few minutes before he'd disappeared. Because in those few minutes he'd already made it perfectly clear that he would be a problem. And now he'd shown he'd sworn his allegiance to the stupid boy, the one who had nothing to do with anything. The one who was just making things difficult for her.

"He shouldn't even be here…" she mumbled to herself.

She unconsciously shook her head. Why were they making something so simple so complicated? Just who the hell does he think he's helping bringing them here?

She says, "He's just making things more difficult for every one."

Especially Sam. Especially her.

She says, "He has some nerve."

Just because he made the wrong choice doesn't mean she'll do the same.

Just because he made a mistake doesn't mean she will.

Just because he ruined his life doesn't mean he can ruin his daughter's.

Rebecca brought her hand up to her temple and unsuccessfully tried to massage away the annoyance.

"All I'm trying to do is help her," she reasons.

All she's trying to do is follow orders.

All she's trying to do is make Viktor happy.

All she's trying to do is keep her perfect plan from falling apart.

All she's trying to do is help.

And they're ruining everything.

She sits down violently casting a glance at the monitors on the wall opposite of her. There's no movement from the trees and she's beginning to second guess herself. Her finger is just itching to dial the security office and have them brought back into her sights. Maybe, possibly, off the grounds. Because, really, the last thing Sam needs is another distraction.

Becca's eyes stray to the screen in the top left corner. The one that's trained solely on Sam standing outside with the wedding party.

Truthfully, she hadn't thought that the one girl alone would have been too difficult to persuade. After all this family was all she had left. Her grandmother was off playing dead, her mother had been dead for a while, and her father… well maybe she would have been better off if he'd stayed dead. Maybe she'd put just a little too much faith into old photographs and hazy memories from over a decade ago.

The truth is that when she'd first met her she was expecting the poor little rich girl. All alone in the world. Pushing people away. Keeping everyone at a distance. _That_ girl wouldn't have thought twice about accepting the position. She wouldn't have batted an eyelash when she was asked to sign away her future. She would have done it just to have the sick satisfaction of knowing she was no longer responsible for herself. That if she did something that let someone down it wasn't her fault. She was expecting that kind of sick self-rebellion to still exist in her.

_That_ girl was the one she had been expecting Finn to drag back to the estate a month ago after Aida's funeral. But low and behold, instead of the poor little rich girl she gets Samantha Emily Madison-Turner: The girl who tried to save herself by screwing up her only chance to save herself.

She sighs, _Though I suppose she didn't know that at the time. _

She didn't know that by marrying an imaginary person she could have been lost forever. That just by taking one for the team she could have saved herself a lot of trouble. If she had just married Kelly she wouldn't have been found.

Rebecca smiles though because no matter how badly she underestimates her great-niece she knows her too well. She knows that at the time she probably thought she was committing the lesser of two evils. After all, in the history of the world how many people have died in the name of love? She knows that poor little Sam, she probably thought she was being romantic, when actually she was being terribly cliché… and doing a half-assed job of it.

No matter how hard she tries though she can't feel sorry for her poor little rich girl; her great-niece. Because no matter how many chances she was given, no matter how many sacrifices were made so that she could have the choice she still doesn't understand.

And that's why Aunt Becca can't feel bad for poor little Samantha, no matter what hell she puts her through.

Because really it's all for the greater good.

And in the end that's all that matters.

**--**

They aren't twenty minutes from a beach, from a town, from all the beautiful people Miami is home to. The yard can hardly be considered a yard more than fields and woods. More than the artificial wilderness they've set up. And there they are, the two of them, smack dab in the center of all of it.

Steven is leaning up against the nearest tree, his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans. He tells Two-Bit he better get his act together soon.

"Excuse me if I'm not as perfect as the former Mr. Kelly."

Steven sighs and stares at Two-Bit with a look of pure annoyance. Some "hero" this guy was turning out to be. He rubbed his temple as he told Two-Bit to "Be serious". He said, "I don't _have _to help you."

At this Two-Bit raised an eyebrow. He still had a hunch that what Steven was telling him was only half the truth. He was only revealing half of the story. Most likely it stemmed from the fact that Steven White was a romantic at heart. And though very few people would believe this fact, Two-Bit did whole heartedly.

Because he supposed, it explained a lot of Steven's actions.

The leaving out of information was all about theatrics, plot progression, drama; whatever you want to call it, Steven wanted it.

He figured the reason Steven White was helping him was that his romantic mindset made him a strong believer in the fairytale ending. Particularly the ones where love defies all odds and the hero gets the girl.

There was only a few problems with this image Steven was clinging to. The first being that Two-Bit Mathews was in no way a hero. And the second?

"We're just friends."

Steven laughed saying, "_Sure, _Two."

He chuckles and says, "Whatever you say."

Two-Bit says, with a sober expression and a monotone voice, "I'm serious."

Steven stops laughing and gives Two a look; one that's just screaming _You're in denial. _

Steven smiles and says matter of factly, "If that's the way you look at your friends, I think I'd prefer if you hated me still."

Two-Bit scowls from his spot on the ground. Looking up at Steven he tells him that even if this were the time for gay jokes, which its not, and even if what he was saying had any logical basing, which it doesn't, he still wouldn't want to look at him _any way._

Steven just laughs and looks up through the leaves at the sun, and comments on how its setting.

He says, "Looks like we're running out of time."

Two-Bit follows his line of vision and says, "we still have at least and hour—"

Steven grins and says, "Not like that."

He casts another look at the sky as he says things like this usually follow patterns.

"There's always _some _variation of a formula."

He tells him that there's going to be another guy thrown in the picture pretty soon. A rival for her love.

If he's lucky one of two things will happen.

"The guy will be the bad guy," he smiles, "Like I was before."

"What's the second option?"

"Oh, that? She'll love him, but in the end you'll still get her." Steven frowned thinking about it for a moment before saying, "Never really understood that outcome but hell, it happens."

But that's only if he's lucky.

If he's not…

Steven sighs again, "Lets not even think of what could happen then."

Steven extends a hand, offering to help lift Two-Bit back onto his feet. He tells him, "For you Two, I imagine you'll say or do something extremely stupid and irrational; probably lose the chance to have her forever."

Lifting him into a standing position he says, "But that shouldn't matter, seeing as you two are '_just friends'."_

Steven released his hand and replaced it in his pocket, surveying their surroundings for some invisible thing, then he says he has to go. "I'll most likely be back in a few days. For the wedding." He says.

He'll come back then, but most likely no sooner.

He starts to walk towards what Two can only assume is the front gate, its been so long since he's seen it. He pauses, hesitates and looks back at Two-Bit whose staring intently as he's watching this ghost person leave. Its about now that Steven realizes he has him hooked. He smiles to himself and simply for dramatic effect he says, "Just figure it out before its too late." And disappears into the darkness.

And two-Bit just stands still his jaw slacked disbelieving. Saying quietly to himself, "Did he really just do what I think he did?"

Had Steven White come back from the grave just to lecture him? Just to stick his nose in someone else's love life?

Two-Bit Mathews sighs and shakes his head.

Leave it to Steven to blow things out of proportion, to insinuate and assume stupid things.

He shook his head again and sighed. There was no use denying it anymore. No matter how he put it, no matter how many different explanations he made for what he saw, it didn't change what he saw; who he saw.

Somehow, in some inexplicable way, Steven White was back. And he was there, or at least he had been, and worst of all he'd practically _promised _he'd be back.

Two-Bit scowled and muttered to himself, "I should have known better."

_After all,_ he thought bitterly, _only the good die young._


	10. HalfHearted Hypotheticals

8

**10.**

He stands there for a moment, unsure.

He's unsure about whether or not Steven's pulling a fast one on him. After all, he's done it before. And no matter how much it pains him to admit it Two-Bit knows he's not all that intelligent, he's far from stupid, but he sure as hell ain't a genius.

And really it seemed like something Steven was perfectly capable of doing. He'd trick him into thinking he had a chance with Sam, then be there to laugh when he was rejected.

For a minute he allows himself to humor the thought, the one that actually believes what Steven White was trying to sell him was possible. Then its gone, knocked out of his head by self doubt and the memory of July in Tulsa.

Even though he'll never say it out loud, or even admit it to himself, it still bothers him- what went down.

What wasn't said. What was. To this day he still beats himself up for letting go that easy. Looking back, what he once saw as generosity he only sees as cowardice. He didn't _let _Kelly have her, he didn't bow out gracefully. He didn't let the groom have his bride. He gave up. He practically gift wrapped her. Just looking back at it he realizes how much self-pity had clouded his mind.

Its only taken him an hour but he's realized some things. Mostly he's realized he's stuck on the past. He's stuck on what happened and why it will keep things from happening in the future.

He's realized that maybe Steven (_or was it Pete?_) had been right all those months ago. They were more alike than he'd liked to admit. They were both there for the same reason. The same person. And while maybe what they wanted from her was a little different, it wasn't by much. If any at all. Even if neither of them realized it. And besides, no matter what Steven says, it's really the only rational reason as to why he's here; or at least as rational as you can get when referring to people who are _supposed _to be dead.

Two-Bit sums the whole experience up to a lesson learned and a million questions left unanswered.

Sitting there, hours after Steven's little speech, his monologue on loss and love and guilt and repentance, Two-Bit cant stop thinking, questioning.

Was what Steven said true?

Sure at one point it had been, but he'd given up that notion. He'd stopped whatever little crush he'd been harboring for Sam months ago. He'd given up that night by the side of the road. Sure he'd moped and sulked but he'd gotten over it hadn't he?

They were just friends. That's all they really ever were. That's all they'd ever gotten to be.

He let out a huge rush of breath as fell back against the tree again. No. He told himself he had to stop right there. He had to stop letting Steven get into his head.

He had to stop this.

He was questioning everything he'd been backing for as long as it had been asked.

I mean, sure he wanted to see her. He wanted her to be happy, any friend worth their title would though. I mean, that little lump that had formed when she'd left, it was gone. Sure he'd chased her down before he was rid of it, but that didn't take away from the fact of the matter, right? I mean, _sure, _he'd felt that pang of anger when he'd gotten the invitation, but that was just because he'd felt left out and unimportant, Right? That was it… right?

I mean, he didn't love Sam. Not in that way… Not that she did or would anyway.

He sighed; even if there was some love he was positive it was strictly platonic. Nothing more.

I mean… he'd given up on that thought a while ago right?

He's two seconds from ramming his head into the tree trunk when the thought hits him.

When _had_ he given up?

He stops…

That one thought seems to have the power to halt all other thought.

_When __**had **__he given up on that?_

He closes his eyes in concentration. He thinks about it long and hard, until he comes up with the answer; which is quite simply, he never had.

**--**

Its hours after Steven's disappeared into the night and Sam found Two-Bit wandering around the forest lost. Its at least four hours after his little epiphany. Its hours later but still Steven's words are still in Two's head.

And its making him feel slightly insane. But more or less bolder.

He leans his head to the side and casts a quick glance at his _friend._ She's sitting there innocently, head resting up against the wall his bed is pushed up against and he says out of the blue, "I know what your trying to do."

He says he knows _exactly_ what she's trying to do.

She smiles and keeps her eyes on the paper and just when he thinks she's ignoring him she asks, "What's that Two-Bit?"

Stalling, he says he knows that she's trying to stall.

"Trying?" she asks smugly still not looking up from the newsprint.

He scowls and knows that sounded exactly the way it was meant to. He adds, "And succeeding…"

She's been biding her time. She's been coming up with ways to kill time. She's been waiting for the clock to run out. All _this, _whatever _this _was, was just a stupid game. A stupid little waiting game that reminded him a lot of chicken. The two of them rushing head on, and whoever gave up first was the loser. If neither of them pulled out then they'd both be hurt.

She'd already wasted three weeks. Almost four. She's been wasting time by telling him half truths and white lies. Nothing too serious but not simple enough to not matter. She's told him she needs to get out, but never why. She's told him she's trying to protect him, but not from what.

If this was a game, then he was most definitely losing.

She asks him why he's being so paranoid.

He just laughs, "Maybe you're rubbing off on me."

And almost to prove his point he sees her glance sideways at a roving camera.

What he finds strange, almost too strange is where its at. The camera spies them from the hallway outside his bedroom door. It stops and watches as Sam sticks out her tongue and gets up to close the door.

It just now occurs to him why she likes his room so much, it's the only one he's seen without cameras. He finds it extremely strange why one room out of hundreds doesn't have surveillance. He's wondering what's so special about this one room.

He sighs and its now that he begins to think he wasn't joking when he said she'd rubbed off on him.

She sighs as she plops down on her back, looking up at him from her spot on the bed she sees he's still staring at the shut door. For the first time since she's been here she smiles at the look on Two's face. The one that looks like the gears are turning and he's contemplating something in his head.

She sees his blank stare and instantly takes it the wrong way.

"Don't worry Two," she takes on a lecherous grin, "I wont take advantage of you."

He raises and eyebrow and looks down at her, silent.

She just smiles and says, "It'd be stupid anyway. Especially when the guards are gonna be standing outside the door any minute now."

He raises his head back to the door and begins contemplating again. Because maybe what Steven said _wasn't _that far from the truth…

When he looks back to her seconds later she's got the paper in her hands again. Feeling his eyes on her she says, "If there's something you need to tell me, just say it already."

There's a pregnant pause as he thought it over.

In all this recent thinking he's realized a lot of things, but mostly, he's realized that he's afraid. Not out of fear of seeming insane (because he knows that's exactly how he'll look if he did tell her). No. He's more afraid of what it'll mean if she doesn't think he's insane. What he's dreading is the scenario were Sam isn't shocked when she hears Steven's back. He's not worried about what her reaction will be so much as if she has a _lack _of reaction to the news. Though he figures, she'll just think he's joking.

So he tries a hypothetical.

Because hypothetically it should work.

So he asks her, _hypothetically, _"What if I said that I'd seen Steven?"

She's still keeping her eyes on the crossword as she answers lazily, "Steven White?"

"Yeah…"

"Two-Bit you've seen Steven before—"

"No," he says. "Recently"

Finally she looks up from the newspaper.

He almost wishes she hadn't.

"How recently?"

He wants to say something like, "In this house recently" or "He should've been long dead recently" but he doesn't.

He doesn't say much of anything.

But somehow… she still knows exactly what he wants to say.

Which is why when Sam sets the paper down on the table she narrows her eyes and tells him what he's saying is crazy.

She says he was supposed to have died months ago.

He almost says something when he notices she's gone back to the puzzle. She's gone back to only giving him half her attention. He's back to the point where she's refusing to look him in the eye when she answers him.

And its right then that good 'ol auntie Rebecca's words come back to him.

_Sam's hiding things. Keeping secrets. She's lying to you. She's covering up the truth. _

Right now he's pretty conflicted. Because what Sam's saying isn't nearly as important as what she isn't. What she's saying is that Steven's _supposed _to be dead. What she isn't saying is that he is.

He wants to ask for clarification but is afraid of what she'll say. He's afraid of exactly how clear things will end up when she's done. He'd rather not know than know too much right then.

He takes another look over at Sam again and decides that even if he wants it he's not ready for the truth.

He keeps his eyes on her as he leans back and says, "I guess you're right."

He lies through his teeth when he says, "I'm just imagining things."

And hours pass, just like days have passed, just like the weeks have passed.

And as always Sam's that much closer to winning.

And he's that much closer to losing her.


	11. Down The Rabbit Hole

--

**--**

**A/N: Ah, the joys of summer. As I now have an abundance of both time AND inspiration, this story might just be finished in the near future. So readers stay tuned.**

**--**

**11.**

"Things have become more _difficult._"

The voice is cold and collected when it asks how this matters at all to the mission objective.

"It shouldn't," she replies, slightly ashamed for even bringing it up, "But still…"

No one should have to work under these conditions. All these distractions aren't aiding her in any obvious way. He's just making it harder, all his questioning and curiosity is disconcerting.

"I mean, if he finds out…" her words trail off as she thinks of the possible scenario. That emotional blow up weeks in the making. She doesn't want to have to deal with his inevitable temper-tantrum. "He'll be like a two-year old denied what he wants."

_You have to focus,_ the voice tells her. Ignore the distractions just finish what she was brought here to do. _Then_, it says, _you're free to be as distracted as you want._

She sighs and leans heavily into the tall grass saying, "I somehow doubt that."

She feels as if there's more to this whole thing than the lie of the lie. She closes her eyes and lets this thought soak in as a horrible wave of emotion washes over her.

It doesn't matter. All her wasted efforts don't matter because in the end she'll never be able to leave. She wont be able to turn her back on this, they wont let her. She most likely wont let herself. She's never been one to give up, and even less so someone who lets things go before their time.

She shuts her eyes in a motion that any passerby could misinterpret as the blinking back of tears. But no one sees so there's no one to misinterpret.

She just shuts her eyes and lays there in the tall grass, _her_ tall grass, and lets the warm sun wash over her. She lays there as that little voice in her mind reassures her that it'll all be okay in the end. That they'll find a way to have their cake. It tells her with what she imagines is a smile on its face, _And it'll taste all that much better in the end. _

And all she can think as she drifts off, is that it damn well better be.

**--**

Sam slaps a palm to her forehead, because at this point she's really wishing she had some more details. The five W's seem to be lacking in her memory. As far as she can recollect she'd fallen asleep in the field then, hours later had woken to find that no one had apparently come looking for her. The oddness of this hadn't struck her too hard. Because at that moment she was stumbling around in the dark. No matter how long she'd allowed for her eyes to adjust all she could see on all sides was darkness. And she was feeling at that time was hopeless.

There's an obvious time gap, a little mini black out in her mind where one minute she was walking, hands stretched out in front of her feeling blindly at the tree trunks, and the next she's lying face down in the dirt blinded by light.

For a second she fears the worst, because isn't that white light the thing you supposedly see when you die? She blinks and her eyes adjust and she's staring into a street lamp. She lifts herself off the ground and sitting in the dirt, kneeling there staring into the white hot light; she knows. She's no longer in the woods that border the estate.

That much, she feels, is obvious.

And with one look to her left and another to her right she feels something swell in the pit of her stomach. She stands up and for half a second believes she really _has died and gone to heaven. _Because really there's no other explanation for what she's seeing.

The thought crosses her mind for an instant. _Run, _it says. _Now's your chance. _She feels herself start an unconscious step forward before she slams on the mental breaks. She shakes her head clearing her hazy mind. She takes one last longing look at the stretch of empty road before she turns and heads back from the way she came.

**--**

**Buzz. **

There are about fifty mechanical eyes watching as she walks through the darkness. She knows they're there. She just cant see them. She doesn't need to, she's already at her destination.

The way she feels right now its like she's moving with her mind in a fog. The way things have been going the past hour she feels disconnected from it all.

As she's slipping through the wooden door the last camera stares her down as she shuts the door behind her. She hopes, for once in her life, that the cameras are watching her. She prays that the little men sitting at little black and white screens have seen her public display. As she turns the lock she hopes they imagine something deviant is going on behind that locked door.

She hopes this, because it should buy them some time.

Silently, because some instinct imbedded in her tells her she needs to be, she climbs into bed with him. She leans in close to his ear whispering so the cameras can't pick up the hushed sounds.

"Two." He makes a sound somewhere in between a groan and a mumble. He twitches but seems otherwise undeterred from his sleep. She glances out the window and nervously runs her tongue over her lips. She can see the beginnings of day creeping up on her. For the hundredth time she feels the oppressive force of time pressing on her. But for the first time its met with full blown panic.

She crawls closer practically sitting on him now and takes a deep breath. "Wake up." She says. "Two-Bit, _please._"

His eye twitches before it opens and she sees him stare at her through a foggy film of sleep. He blinks twice before his eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something. Fearing he'll give them away she slides a hand over his mouth and brings her finger to her lips, giving him a wordless order. She once again leans in close to his ear and tells him to stay quiet. She pulls back and removes her hand. He raises an eyebrow and in a hushed voice asks what the hell she's doing in his bed.

She ignores his questioning and in a hushed whisper tells him, "We have five minutes." She tells him, "Get dressed quick."

She swings her leg so that she's no longer pining him to the bed and walks swiftly to the window, appraising the tree branch a few feet away.

"Sam, what's going on?" he questions as he pulls on a wrinkled pair of jeans and runs a hand through his hair. She pushes open the window and sticks the top half of her body out of it before she regards him again.

"Come here," she says beckoning him closer with her hand. She takes a deep breath and swings both legs out so that she's sitting carefully on the window's ledge. "Follow me." She tells him.

He swallows the lump that's formed in his throat as he catches on to her little plan. "Are you sure about this Sam?" He looks from her to the ground below quickly. "What if you fall?"

"If I fall," she says calmly, "Go home."

She reaches out and grabs the branch with both hands testing its strength. "But if you want to be Shakespearian you could jump after me…" she smiled at the look of confusion etched on his face.

"Didn't spend much time in English class did you?" she guesses.

"Never saw the need to…"

"You didn't miss much, its mostly about rich people and their issues."

Seemingly satisfied with the branch's capabilities and gave him one last look and said, "See you at the bottom."

**--**

She didn't fall. And somehow they didn't get caught as she dragged him through the thick underbrush of the less traveled portion of the woods. And somehow he hadn't found the state of mind to ask her where they were going or why she'd found it necessary to go there before the sun had even risen.

He figured he could trust her on this one thing and not question her motives just this once. Besides, he was kind of enjoying the feel of her hand in his.

They came to a sudden stop as they had been doing every so often. Sam rubs an inspecting hand over the bark of some seemingly ordinary tree. Testing it for something. What ever it is she's searching for, its missing from this tree and she moves on to the next. Every so often she discovers what she's looking for and she takes off again hurriedly in one direction not stopping until its time to rub another unsuspecting tree.

Finally she stops and stands stock still in one place. She kneels down and feels the ground before looking back at him and smiling triumphantly.

"This is it," she says before she grabs his hand and jumps off the top of the steep hill they'd previously been standing in.

"It was dark you see, so I wouldn't have seen this hill, or how it just ends…" she's skidding to a stop at the bottom when she says, "I tripped and rolled down here. Through the hole."

And just like that she's out.

"When they were building the fence there was more trees."

She pulls him through the wide openness and down the road, "But they had to cut them down when they built the freeway." She chuckles good-naturedly and her smile grows, "This house is so damn old that they probably didn't remember about it."

She can almost smell the salt of the ocean and she drops his hand and throws her hands up above her head and laughs and spins around in the light of the rising sun. She smiles and practically knocks over her companion when she jumps him and gives him an enthusiastic hug.

"I know it won't be forever," she confesses.

She knows you cant run away from your responsibilities and your duties and your problems. She knows you have to face these things head on. That's all fine and well, she says, but for today…

"We can pretend." She says, "That's the beauty of the thing Two."

For today she can pretend that things will turn out okay. That her ending can be happy.

She can close her eyes and practically see the waves crashing. She can smell that salty ocean air.

"Two-Bit," she says, "There's something I really need to tell you."


	12. Scientia est Potentia

12

**12.**

They're sitting in the sand not a mile from the estate watching the sun rise above the edge of the water. She's got the most carefree expression on her face and for a second its déjà vu, because even though he hasn't seen her this happy in a long time he can still recall when he has.

But, he supposes, that's what getting a weight off your shoulders does to a person. He's swallowing another stubborn lump that's formed in his throat and trying to remain calm. He's trying to imprint this image of her. He's trying to think up a plan.

Her head turns toward him slightly and she sighs sadly saying, "Stop pouting, Two."

Because its not going to change anything. She has to stay. There's no other alternative. Because even if she could figure out what the hell the whole mystery is she's still the next in line.

"You see Two, I've figured it out." She glances back at the water before she says, "Without me, there is no Turner Family."

Because, you see, she's the only named heir that's still alive.

"There were two before me," She confesses quietly. One was the eldest son, her Uncle, but he's been gone for years. He'd long been written off as dead.

He sighs and says what about the second and third son?

"Finn and Marco?" She wrinkles her brow at that and frowns, "That's the thing… The whole 'mystery'…"

No one, not even Auntie, knows why Samantha Madison-Turner is the next and last in line once Viktor died. She says that it's just the way it is. That four days after he's dead the family is sitting at some lawyer's office listening to the reading of the will and then, just like that, everything goes to shit for them.

"Imagine," she says, "If all your hopes and dreams everything you'd looked forward to was suddenly and inexplicably crushed."

She tells him, "That's nothing compared to what they felt."

She says, "All they had left of their beloved patriarch was a will and a key and a deadline."

All he'd left for those people that had doted on him and loved him was this big mystery that no one could figure out.

She sighs and says that the Turners were kind of screwed for the past few years. "There was no heir," she got some sort of glint in her eye when she said, "They thought they were both dead…"

All because around eighteen years ago one dropped off the face of the earth. And as for her…

"Lets just say Aida's been keeping me under wraps for a _long _time." She turns her head towards him and says slowly, "So you see Two, even if I wanted to I _couldn't _go back."

She'd still have to live at the estate. She's still responsible for the family. She sighs and says, "_Two families_." Then she mumbles, "Fuckin' Aida."

He wants to laugh, or at least smile but he can't…

"But," she starts hesitantly, "Even if I could, I still don't think I would leave."

Not after those words leave her mouth.

She goes on to tell him there's nothing left in California or Tulsa for her anyway. There's nowhere that she holds ties to. "Except for here." She's avoiding eye contact when she tells him that here is the only place she's needed.

There's a pause, she's waiting for him to protest, to tell her that somewhere someone else needs her more than the Turners. More than this family she's only just met.

She waits and after a pregnant pause he finally says, "Its not so bad here" for no particular reason that she can see other than approval.

He goes on and adds, "I mean I can't imagine it would be so horrible to stay here."

She smiles, thinking that he just made things easer for her.

But she's wrong.

He smirks saying he could use a vacation and Miami seems like a nice change. And besides with the beaches and the sun—

She finally catches his drift and shakes her head "no". It's bad enough he was here now, he's already pushing his luck. She's not going to sit back and let him rot away with her.

"I wouldn't really call it _rotting_…" he interjects.

But what about his friends?

"What about 'em?"

Wouldn't he miss them?

He leans back with his hands behind his head as he shrugs, "Everyone's moving on," he says. "Soda and Steve are always playing with their cars, the kids are in school all the time, Darry's working—"

"And Dallas is gone."

He stiffens up momentarily, not realizing she knew about her cousin's mysterious flight. He lets out a heavy exhale of breath and nods, saying, "Yeah."

"So you see," he says, "I also have few ties elsewhere."

Yes, this all adds up to him being very alone, but it also leaves him completely free to stay with her as long as she wants.

She lets his words sink in slowly and finally it hits her what he said. So she laughs a little saying there's just one flaw in his master plan, "What if I don't want you anymore?"

He snorts, "I doubt that will happen anytime soon."

She rolls her eyes and looks back into the yellow-orange glow of the sun saying quietly, "We'll see."

**--**

Sam's playing with the chain hanging around her neck when she stops herself. There was no reason she should be having nervous ticks. She shouldn't be exuding guilt, she'd done nothing wrong.

So, okay, she'd broken a pretty big rule between her and Auntie, and lord knows what she would do when she found out where the security guards had finally found her.

But no, she wasn't stupid. She wouldn't let Auntie find out about her little escape route, she might need that sooner or later; so the longer it remained a secret the better. So no, she hadn't been anywhere _near _the hole when the guards had found her… not that she thought where they _had_ would be received much better.

She hears the door knob turn and click shut behind the study's new occupant. There's the soft sound of footsteps on the padded carpet and she doesn't bother looking to see who's just entered the room.

The chair across from her is filled now as they take a seat at the large oak desk watching her with a hint of amusement.

"Samantha…"

"Auntie."

"What were you doing in that boy's room?"

"Playing cards?"

She rolls her eyes and brings one hand up to her temple.

"Samantha don't do this now…"

She pleads with her not to throw away everything she's been working towards. "I know you've gotten closer."

She sighs and says, "You wouldn't be pulling stunts like this if you hadn't."

Sam runs a finger over the key feeling blindly at the engraving. She looks up at her great-aunt and asks her if she knows Latin.

She shakes her head no and looks at her niece suspiciously. "It's a dead language," she says, "The majority of people never learn it."

Sam drops her eyes down to the small brass key and chews her bottom lip. "Yeah, that's true." She says. She keeps her eyes trained on the small cursive lettering before asking, "Did Grandpa Viktor learn it?"

There's no answer, just silence and another suspicious glance from the woman in red. Auntie is trying to help, she knows this. What she cant figure out is just who she thinks she's helping.

She knows its certainly not her that Auntie's here for, because all she's shown is annoyance and aggravation. Sometimes, if she's lucky, also disappointment. The closest thing to encouragement that's _ever _left her Auntie's mouth was the threats and the warnings about time limits and punctuality.

Sam knows that Auntie isn't here for Marco, because that woman couldn't care less about the wedding. As she's told Sam countless times, happiness of that sort is overrated. The wedding, her role in its planning, its all bullshitting and lies. Its her cover since not many people, even in the immediate family know the exact details. Details she's not willing to divulge just yet. Apparently not even to her.

Sam is brought back from her train of thought as the woman takes the younger girl's silence as the end of that topic and taps a finger or two on the desk trying to regain some sense of control.

"The wedding is in two days." She sounds tired and she looks ancient with all the creases from frowns and worry etched into her skin. "Lets try and behave ourselves until then, shall we?"

Sam tucks the key back in between the collar of her shirt and her skin before she asks Auntie if that's all.

She nods and Sam rises up slowly and as she leaves the room she hears her aunt say to her again, "Just two days Samantha."

Its another cryptic warning. Another flashing deadline fast approaching. She takes a deep breath and nods again in understanding.

"And Samantha," she says just as the girl is stepping out of sight, "Do try and stay on the property in the future."

Sam freezes for a moment caught red handed and feeling panic well up again, but she regains her composure quickly and says nothing as she simply shuts the door behind her slowly.

**--**

Its not until she's standing outside the door that she figures that really, she has almost no control over the things that happen.

Sure she has some say, but her true level of influence is pretty low. She figures she can only push things so far before she loses her hold over them. She figures that its only a matter of time before she looses control of everything.

She's not angry about that though. She was raised in a world where someone more intelligent than you, older than you, wiser than you -every one _but_ you- made the decisions that effected your life.

As long as she's been able to think for herself she's had someone trying to subtly manipulate her. Before Rebecca there was Aida.

So really, she's not angry that Auntie is pushing her harder to solve their little problem. She understands where she's coming from and she feels the same, almost. Because unlike Auntie, who seems to have her heart set on the one possible outcome, Sam's been searching high and low for alternatives.

Auntie's been trying to tell her that there is no alternative, not as long as she is who she is. Its obvious every time she speaks the phrase, _"The family is counting on you" _or some form of that is used.

Sometimes its a few forms.

She's heading down the long hallway ignorant for once of the cameras watching her. She's too busy asking herself why she was chosen.

Why was it that her grandfather felt she was more fit to lead his family than his own sons?

She frowns because she knows how she might feel slightly more confident if she hadn't been the second and last choice for the job.

Yet…

She knows there has to be a tie. There's that unknown connection she has to this man she can't ever remember meeting.

But… she does remember something about him. From even before she can remember her mother being dead she knows she's lived there before. She recalls from some deep depth of her mind some memory of the vast garden forest and the monstrous house.

Somewhere in forgotten memory she recalls how different things had been when Viktor had been alive. There'd been no iron fence just a simple wood one. One that hadn't served any purpose but to mark where his land began and where it ended. She figures that the cameras came later, as did the security hounds. For some reason she can't imagine that her grandfather had anything like this in mind when he created this place.

She pauses momentarily as she runs a hand along the smooth cream and gold wallpaper. She stopped as she leaned heavily against a wall. She rested her head against the cool molding and took a deep breath.

The calm and collected voice in her head has already formed a pseudo mantra out of her aunts words. In her mind she hears that cold voice repeating _Two Days _over and over and over again.

Two days and it would be all over. He would be gone and she could return to business, because it was true what her aunt had said. She had gotten closer, just a small step closer, to solving the mystery.

She knows what Auntie doesn't want to tell her, that Viktor was _obsessed _with languages, dead or otherwise.

She knows that the will that named her as the heir is just a formality. Really she knows, because in all her snooping she's _seen _it, that that sheet of paper is simply a list.

She knows that Viktor has some sick sense of humor, because all he leaves his sister is some letter, filled with instructions on his last wishes.

She knows that it simply states that Viktor's eldest son Davis Turner is to be the recipient of one brass key and the taskmaster in charge of fulfilling his last wishes.

She knows that if Davis Turner can not fulfill the last wishes they are to be passed on to Samantha Turner, Viktor's first grandchild, and the only one he'd lived to see.

She knows there's a deadline, her eighteenth birthday. But what that deadline marks is part of her mystery.

She knows what they say is true. Those words that are inscribed on the brass hanging from around her neck. _Scientia est potentia_

"Knowledge is Power."

She just wonders what she knows that they don't.


End file.
